


Impact

by Rasiaa



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, M/M, Triggers, be careful reading this because there are triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 11:10:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14283627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rasiaa/pseuds/Rasiaa
Summary: Gabriel Novak met freshman Sam Winchester in the fall semester of his senior year in high school.He didn't realize, at the time, how much of an impact that would have when everything Gabriel has known for years comes apart.





	Impact

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGERS  
> I cannot say this enough. If you're triggered by self-harm or suicide, back out now.  
> ...  
> That being said, this is another one of those nasty fics that ran away from me. I wrote this instead of my other fics that I really need to work on. I started this with a vague idea and I just kept typing and never stopped. 77 pages and nearly 30k words later...

Gabriel and Dean are set to graduate the same year.

They know each other in passing, mostly, but Dean's in a lot of advanced placement classes, he's the cheer captain, and Gabriel scrapes by in film club and theatre. They shared Algebra I in freshman year and no classes since.

So it's really not that much of a surprise that they had no idea that either of them had siblings.

"It'll be fun," Kali says again, and Gabriel is more than ready to kill her.

"I haven't been to a football game since I started high school, what makes you think I want to go now?" he demands, hanging up the costume he was wearing for the presentation earlier today. The theatre classroom has long since emptied, but Ms. Jameson has had Gabriel through every semester for four years now, so she lets him do basically whatever he pleases.

"It's senior night," Kali says, and once more this is repetition. "We're saying goodbye to all the senior band members, football players, and cheerleaders. Come on! Support me?"

It's not that Gabriel doesn't want to support Kali. They've been friends for years. But he knows as well as she does that there's distance now, and that they haven't properly spoken in weeks. They made the mistake of making out in the back of the courtyard and nothing's been the same since. But this is her last ditch effort and that's the only reason why he finally gives in.

She smiles at him the way she used to, all fondness and joy, and he smiles back feebly as she makes her way out of the theatre classroom.

"That looked painful," Ms. Jameson comments, emerging from the door that leads to the stage.

Gabriel glances over, sighing. "It was," he agrees. "I never put much stock into the comments that people make, that you lose all your friends for new ones in high school, because I was so sure that Kali and I would be at each other's sides forever."

Ms. Jameson sits on the desk next to him, a sigh leaving her lips. "It's a consequence of growing up," she says. "People go in different directions when they realize who they are and what they want."

Gabriel looks back to the door, where Kali is long gone. Ms. Jameson pulls him into a hug, and he closes his eyes against her shoulder, giving in. Ms. Jameson has been more of a mother to him than his own mother ever was, so he feels nothing but comfort from her embrace. "I'll give you a pass to your next class, if you'd like, or my next hour is theatre one, so you can just sit in here and I'll clear you with attendance," she offers.

He pulls away just as the bell rings, nodding. "Okay. I'll stay here," he agrees, and she nods.

"Just give me a minute, Gabriel."

She lets him go and walks to the back of the classroom to the phone.

Gabriel bites the inside of his mouth and reaches out to press his fingers against a faux fur coat they'd used for a western play in Gabriel's sophomore year. It's as soft as he remembers, the fabric clean and cool under his fingertips.

"I've never seen you in here before," someone says, causing Gabriel to look over his shoulder.

The kid is easily taller than Gabriel, though, admittedly, that's not a hard feat. He's got brown hair curling around his ears and a flannel shirt that really needs to be burned because Gabriel thinks he can see blood splatters in the pattern.

He smiles, though. "Gabriel Novak," he introduces, spinning around on the desk to face him properly. "I'm a senior. Going into theatre eight next semester and I tutor for Ms. Jameson my fifth hour."

"You're Gabriel Novak?" the kid asks, eyes wide. "Dude, you're like, a legend in these classes."

Gabriel laughs these words off, trying to ignore the way that comment eases some of his depression. "Thanks, but I'm not anything special, really."

"Aw, that's not true and you know it, Gabriel," Ms. Jameson scolds lightly. He looks at her, grinning, but he really feels like dying. Ms. Jameson ruffles his hair and he ducks, the gesture startling a laugh out of him. Ms. Jameson turns to the kid, "Sam, do you have that paper?" she asks, and Sam nods. He reaches for his backpack, but she shakes her head. "Give it to me once class starts. Let's see if everyone was smart enough to do their homework."

"As if," Gabriel snorts. She winks at him.

…

It's nearly time for Thanksgiving break, and since Gabriel only has his English IV class to worry about for a core class, he starts to skip the woodshop class he took for an extra credit to hang around in the theatre classroom. His woodshop teacher isn't very fond of him, and wasn't from the beginning no matter how good his work was, but since he's cleared with Ms. Jameson and turns all his work in, there really isn't much he can do about it.

As a result, he gets to hang around Sam a bit more, since Ms. Jameson's desk is near the back of the room and Sam sits just diagonally from it and Gabriel sits in her chair. He's rooting through her desk for the candy he knows she has when Sam walks in early one day.

"Dude, what the hell?" Sam demands, eyes wide.

Gabriel glances up briefly to smirk at him. He shoves some of Ms. Jameson's nail polish - she does her nails while on lunch, which is something Gabriel discovered in his freshman year when he got sick of being in the cafeteria alone - out of the way and lets out a small sound of satisfaction.

"Want one?" he asks, offering the bag of bite sized Snickers to Sam.

Sam is clearly dumbfounded, glancing quickly between the candy, Gabriel, and the desk. "You can't just root through a teacher's desk," he eventually manages. Gabriel rolls his eyes.

"She doesn't care. There's hardly anything I could do that would get me on her bad side," he scoffs, picking up one of the candies and popping it in his mouth.

The kid still stands there even as the rest of the class begins to file in. Gabriel shrugs and sits down in Ms. Jameson's chair, crossing one leg over the other. When she walks in he doesn't bother to hide the candy. "How did you find that?" she calls, looking astounded and amused.

Gabriel raises the bag in a salute. "I'm a bloodhound, Ms. Jameson," he responds.

She shakes her head, exasperated, and the bell rings.

…

Senior night is the day before the break. So that's where Gabriel is.

He watches lazily as parents and students walk around him to find seats on the hard, cold bleachers, mildly befuddled by their enthusiasm. There's a lot of excited chatter and shrieking, but none of it is directed at Gabriel.

Because for all his popularity, he is ultimately alone.

He crosses one leg over the other and leans his head on his hand to look around. He sees the cheerleaders on the track, their captain like a drill sergeant, but one that laughs at the girl's antics and smiles too much to be healthy. Dean Winchester.

Kali is on the edge of the group, her uniform crisp. She stretches, turning her body in ways that Gabriel could never hope to replicate, and that's when she spots him. She lights up and waves. He raises his hand with a smile that feels fake. It appeases her though, and so she turns willingly to Dean when he calls her.

Their conversation is brief. The coach appears and takes their attention, so Gabriel allows his gaze to wander again. The band is filing into the stands, louder than the rest of the people by far. They're supposedly the largest band in the state, with nearly two hundred people, so that's not really a surprise.

"Hey," someone says, sitting down heavily next to him. Gabriel turns his gaze to his left, mildly annoyed that someone interrupted him.

"Sam?" Gabriel says in surprise.

"Didn't really peg you for someone who likes football," Sam says, handing him a king size Kit Kat. Gabriel takes it numbly, watching Sam lean down to dig around in his bag. "Saw you in the stand and figured you might want that," he says, nodding to the candy. "My dad bought it in an effort to get back in my good graces after a fight, but I don't care much for candy."

"Oh," Gabriel says. "Thanks, then."

"Yeah," Sam says, pulling a notebook out of his backpack. There's a pen tucked behind his ear that he pulls down, pressing it to the paper to start scribbling math problems, of all things.

They stay quiet after that. Gabriel eventually turn his attention back to the cheerleaders, his vision clouding over as his thoughts wander.

"Gabriel?"

He blinks out of his trance and looks back at Sam. "Sup?" he asks.

"Who are you looking at?"

Sam points to the cheerleaders. Gabriel follows his finger, shrugging. "The only reason why I'm here is because my old friend is graduating with me this year, so it's her last game. She begged me."

Sam nods, his hand falling. "My brother is the captain."

He looks back at Sam, eyebrows raised in surprise. "You're Dean Winchester's little brother?"

"Yup," he says, popping the p. "I don't have much interest in cheer, though."

"I don't know Dean very well," Gabriel says, "but I have to say, when I found out he was varsity his freshman year, I was pretty shocked."

"He's very good," Sam acknowledges. "Always has been. My mom allowed him into gymnastics when he was younger, but when she died, my dad pulled him off the team. Dean was gone for a season before he started getting money from our uncle."

Gabriel hums as a response, and they fall silent again. Sam still works on the math problems that Gabriel can now see come from his phone; he likely snapped a picture of someone's notes or something. Eventually, he picks at the wrapping on the Kit Kat, and when Sam hears it, he glances up with a smile.

He very determinedly pretends not to see it, though he's not sure why. It could be because the smile is too fond, too pleased for Gabriel's tastes.

The game is mostly incredibly boring, but everyone else seems to know what's going on. It doesn't take long for his high school to start losing, but that's to be expected, honestly. They're a performing arts school, not a sports one. Any money earned that doesn't have a specific designation goes straight to any and all art classes.

So Gabriel glances over after the first quarter and finds that Sam is paying attention to the game more than anything else, his eyes following every movement. He sighs and leans back to look at the sky. But the stars are blocked by the lights illuminating the field. They're too artificial and too bright.

He closes his eyes.

…

"Gabriel?"

He jerks, alarm coursing through him.

Sam pulls away, eyes wide. "Dude, I have no idea how you did it, but you fell asleep on these bleachers."

There's an amused snort from above him, and Gabriel scowls when his eyes land on Cindy, who he dated for an entire week in junior year. That was one of the worst mistakes of his life. He was mocked and ridiculed the entire time.

"He falls asleep anywhere," she says, "even during sex."

Sam looks shocked while the surrounding students begin snickering. "I never even kissed you, bitch," Gabriel snarls, standing swiftly.

"Good thing, too. I heard you're terrible," she fires back, and something hot and dark curls around Gabriel's mind, blocking out the sound of the other students.

He's always been an easy target because he cries so easily, something he had desperately hoped to outgrow, but he's very much in touch with his emotions. Not many people catch him crying anymore, thank god, but he knows they've heard him in the past.

"Gabriel," Sam says, and he looks over swiftly, knowing that he looks wild. "Gabriel," he repeats, "I'm sure that's not true, you shouldn't listen to them."

"Fucking baby has to get a freshman to stand up for him," Cindy's current boyfriend calls out, and that's when Gabriel runs.

He hears Sam calling his name but that is meaningless like the rest of it.

…

It has been a long time since anyone other than Gabriel and his younger siblings have lived in this house.

His parents left for Paris when he was thirteen, but all of Gabriel's older siblings have already moved out. They left as soon as they hit eighteen, and it's rare that Gabriel hears from them, but at least they send fucking Christmas cards. The only thing his parents do is fill his bank account every month to pay the bills and get food. Gabriel thanks god the first of every month when he checks the bank and finds the money. One thing about his parents is that they are filthy rich and for all their faults, have never left their children destitute.

So long story short, his younger siblings know better than to come out of their rooms when they hear someone slamming the door because that usually means something shitty happened with the family, and they don't want to hear it.

Even Gabriel's youngest sibling, his sister Hannah at eight years old, doesn't emerge.

He's grateful for the silence because that means he can go to his room, lock the door, and cry in peace.

Even though the bed would be much more comfortable, he just slides to the floor with his back against the door. He closes his eyes and leans his head against the wall, feeling the tears slide down his face.

He chokes on air, trying to breathe normally, but the sobs keep coming. He knows his brother Castiel can hear him; they share a wall. He also knows that Cas is incredibly aware and knows that Gabriel will crawl out of his room when he's good and ready. The fifteen year old is perceptive, he'll give him that.

He pulls his phone out of his back pocket and opens a text box to Cas: _Order takeout. My card is in my wallet on the kitchen counter. Get whatever you want._

He usually cooks for his brothers and sisters, but he just can't even bring himself to move.

_Feel better_ , Cas responds.

…

He spends most of the break in his room, and since they've never celebrated Thanksgiving anyway, not since Hannah was two and his parents were still around, he doesn't think too much of it.

They can take care of themselves.

Occasionally one of his siblings will knock on his door. One thing he's told them over and over is that he wants to know where they are at all times, so that's usually what they tell him. They never go far.

On Monday, he wakes them up just as he's getting ready to leave. Cas peers at him from under his blankets, eyes narrowed against the light in the hall. "Gabriel," he says, just as he's getting ready to shut the door and allow his brother to wake at his own pace. He pauses. "You can sit with Anna and I at lunch if you want to," he finishes.

"I eat lunch with Ms. Jameson, Cassie," he says, and closes the door before Cas can respond.

There is no one in the neighborhood that doesn't look out for the Novak children. They know their story and often they'll get neighbors knocking on the door to make sure they're alive. He hears their worry; they know that there's a lot of kids in Gabriel's home and there's never any sound. "Unnerving," he heard once.

He's just amazed no one has called the authorities.

With that knowledge, he's not especially worried about his siblings getting to school. Anna and Cas are fifteen and they will makes sure that Alfie and Hannah get to their elementary school.

The gates to the school are locked at six am. It's not expected that students start showing up until a half hour later, after all. School starts at seven thirty.

So Gabriel sits against the wall just outside the door to the stage, sighing. He uses his backpack as a pillow since leaning directly on the brink wall makes his head itch.

It isn't long before Ms. Jameson finds him.

"Gabriel?" she calls, clearly worried.

He smiles, tired, and stands as she unlocks the door. "Come inside," she murmurs, guiding him into her classroom with a hand on his shoulder blade.

She straight up hands him the candy she bought over the break, pulling it right from her purse. He laughs slightly and just lets it sit on the desk next to him. "Tell me," she says, sitting across from him.

He shakes his head. "It's nothing. Just tired," he says.

"I've known you long enough to know that you never show up to class until the minute bell, Gabriel," she says lightly, which is the polite way of calling him on his bullshit.

"I'm okay," he insists, picking at his nails. The cuticle is torn on his index finger and he's been worrying it, so he's not surprised when blood wells up. He keeps his hands under the desk where she can't see them and wipes the blood on his jeans.

"I know you've had issues in the past," she starts, her tone careful, and he narrows his eyes slightly. "Every teacher you've had in the past few years knows about-"

"Don't," he snaps, cutting her off. She blinks, startled. He takes a deep breath. "Please. Just - it's nothing, Ms. Jameson, nothing. I just needed to get the fresh air."

She knows he's lying, he can see it all over her face. But she also knows that she can't make him talk, so she just sighs, standing. "Can you help me with organizing the final exam?" she asks. "I have to reword questions and come up with something new that students in theatre one through three can perform since I'm getting sick of the old prompt."

They both are well aware that he's not supposed to do anything of the sort. But he agrees and she sets him in front of the computer with a new word doc open and the old exam on the desk in front of him.

…

He goes to his woodshop class for four days, but come Friday, he forgets himself.

"Gabriel!"

Sam looks unspeakably pleased to see him. "Ms. Jameson said you were alive but I wasn't sure," he says, heading over to his desk. "I haven't seen you."

He smiles thinly at the freshman, swallowing as the kid get closer. Nerves are starting to get the best of him by the time Sam sits at his normal desk. His head pounds and his palms are sweating. "…wasn't sure you wanted to - Gabriel?"

"Sorry," he says, the response ingrained into him over the years. "What?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to hang out," Sam repeats.

"What?" Gabriel says again, this time incredulously. "Why?"

Sam shifts in his seat, looking nervous. "Because we're friends? Maybe?" he says, looking like a dejected puppy. It's not fair.

"Kid, you've got better friends than me," Gabriel says. "You really don't want to attach yourself to me, in case you hadn't noticed the treatment I got at the game."

"They were assholes," Sam dismisses. "I don't care. I like you. You're interesting."

Gabriel grinds his teeth, and old habit that his dentist has been trying to break him of for years.

"I'm going to graduate next semester," he tells Sam. "Believe me, you do not want my reputation following you for the next three years."

"I don't care about reputation," Sam insists, now looking slightly insulted. "If you don't want to be friends, just tell me instead of trying to get me to live my life the way you think is best."

Gabriel recoils like he's been struck, eyes wide. "I - I didn't mean-" he stutters, feeling bile rise in his throat.

Sam's demeanor calms, switching from slightly pissed off to concerned. "Hey, are you okay?" he asks.

He sits down in Ms. Jameson's chair and turns away from Sam, not wanting to give the kid the satisfaction of knowing that he got to him. He pulls one of the papers off the top of the stack in the ungraded papers bin she's got. He grabs a pen from her cup and the key off the keyboard and starts grading.

He hears Sam whisper his name a few times over the course of the class period, but he ignores him.

Eventually, Sam gives up.

…

He knows that Ms. Jameson is concerned. He ignores that.

He knows that what Cindy said at the game has spread like wildfire around the school because he can't walk anywhere without whispers of his ineptitude following in his wake. He ignores that, too.

He knows that Sam is upset, in a distant sort of way. He's been ignoring that, so he doesn't entirely know what the problem is.

"Gabriel Novak?"

He looks up from his English homework, ready to run if he needs to.

Dean Winchester slides into the seat across from him, none of his friends in sight, thank god. "Yes?" Gabriel asks, trepidation rising.

"I know we're not friends," Dean starts, and fucking Christ, this is the last thing Gabriel needs. "But Sam seems to think that he's your friend and he's moping about the house like a teenage girl."

"I don't know what you expect me to do about that," Gabriel says, snarkiness emerging.

"If you don't like him, tell him to fuck off, but if you do, cut the kid some slack and give him your damn phone number," Dean retorts, rolling his eyes.

"I think you and I both know that's not a good idea," Gabriel snaps. "Sam's a bright kid. He doesn't need some fuck up weepy farce of an actor for a friend. He'd be better off forgetting about me."

Dean looks absolutely shocked. He furrows his eyebrows. "Jesus," he says. "Cas did not say you'd react like that."

"My brother?" Gabriel asks, momentarily side tracked.

"Yes," Dean says. "He's in my calculus II class. We talk."

Gabriel scowls. "Little shit ought to keep his nose out of my business," he snaps back. "Tell Sam he's better off leaving me alone."

"And you?" Dean demands, just as Gabriel grabs his bag.

"What about me?" he asks.

"Sam might be better off, so you think, but are you? I've seen you around, Gabriel, and it looks like you could use someone to talk to. Why not Sam?"

"If you've seen me around then you know the rumors," he responds. "The kid doesn't need that. Why do you care, anyway?"

Here, Dean falters, something unreadable crossing his features. Gabriel waits, staring blankly. When a full minute goes by without a reply, Gabriel snorts and gets up. "That's what I thought," he says, swinging his backpack over his shoulder and walking away. Like everything else, he ignores Dean's call.

…

He debates yelling at Cas but decides against it, mostly because he has no real reason to do that.

He's trying to help and even though his methods suck, at least he's trying.

That's more than most people ever do.

One of his siblings knocks on his door. "Yeah?" he calls, glad for the excuse to shove his essay out of the way. Hannah comes in, face worried. He furrows his eyebrows. "What's up, kiddo?"

"Someone's at the door."

The fact that Hannah doesn't know who it is means it isn't one of their neighbors.

Gabriel gets up immediately and Hannah steps aside. He grabs the knife he keeps under his mattress and the gun he keeps in a lockbox on his bookshelf. She swallows at the sight of it but doesn't say anything. She knew he had it.

He tucks the weapons in the back of his jeans and heads downstairs. Most of his siblings linger in the living room next to the hall where the door opens, glancing at Gabriel as he walks. Alfie is the only one missing but he has soccer practice so Gabriel isn't worried.

He peeks through the hole in the door but he's too short to see through it properly. Resentment builds because this is just one more fucking thing.

He pulls open the door after ushering Hannah out of the way.

He rears back in shock.

"Mom?" he asks, and Becky Novak smiles at him, her face wary and anxious.

"Can I come in, sweetie?" she asks, voice gentle, but Gabriel doesn't move. She doesn't push.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, barely glancing at Hannah as she tucks herself into his side. He just wraps an arm around her shoulders. Becky looks at her, eyes sad, then blinks back up to Gabriel.

"Where are your older brothers?" she asks, and Gabriel laughs.

"Gone," he says. "Michael lives in New York. Luke went to California State University and Raphael accepted an internship in Florida. Haven't seen any of them in years."

She looks lost, worried. "Who takes care of you?" she asks.

"I do. I take care of them."

She falters. "What are you doing here?" Gabriel repeats, patience running thin.

"We finished our business in Paris," she says. "We are moving back here."

"Like hell," Gabriel yells, fury, red hot, overtaking him. "You don't belong here. If you want to live in the States, fine, I won't stop you. But leave us alone."

It's only after he says it that he realizes that he might lose the money she provides every month. Despite it all, she has provided for them all their lives, and Gabriel knows that he cannot hope to keep Anna, Cas, Alfie, and Hannah safe and well fed without that money.

For her part, Becky doesn't look surprised or even angry. "I know what your father and I did to you. And I never expected that you would shoulder the burden, Gabriel. Michael was old enough to understand and to provide for you when we left and he swore he would."

"He left six months after you did. Started screaming bloody murder with Luke and Raphael. Packed a bag, took the car, and we haven't seen him since. I got a letter about eight months ago that said where he was and what he was doing, but until then, he could've been dead for all we knew."

Becky closes her eyes and a tear slides down her cheek. "Words cannot say how sorry we are," she mumbles. "And there is nothing I can do to make it up to you."

Gabriel stands there in silence. There is nothing. They all know it.

"Your father and I want to treat you to dinner sometime," she says after a minute. Her voice is choked and her eyes still glean with unshed tears, but she stands tall in the face of Gabriel's stoic disdain. "We can catch up."

Gabriel looks over his shoulder at his siblings, who have said nothing during this entire encounter. "Well?" he asks, leaving the choice to them. Gabriel remembers their parents the most, and while he doesn't particularly care, Anna and Cas were eleven, Alfie six, and Hannah two and a half, and he knows they might want to reconnect to the family they never knew.

Cas and Anna exchange glances. They have the silent communication that most twins have, then they look in unison to Gabriel. "Might as well," Anna says.

Becky brightens slightly and Gabriel looks over her shoulder to where Alfie is running up the road.

Becky glances over as her youngest son bolts into the house and up the stairs without so much as a hello. Her face falls.

"Alfie always showers after soccer practice before anything else," Gabriel offers. "The only way I know that he's come home is that the shower turns on."

She nods. "Okay," is all she gets out.

There's a few more moments of silence. Gabriel stares at her, holding onto Hannah. She looks between them and behind them to see the twins, then sighs. "We're staying in a hotel. We might as well start looking at houses," she says. "You can keep this one. I'll make sure you get the money you need."

Gabriel lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Thank you," he says, grateful beyond words.

There's a slight upturn of her lips before she dims once more. "I've thought of you every day."

"Then why did you leave?" he asks, the question he's been asking himself for the past five years coming out in a rush.

She looks at him sadly. "We would've lost everything if we didn't," she explains. "And your father and I struggled enough without you. We didn't want to put you through the hassle of losing your home to move half way across the world, only to end up living on someone else's property, on their kindness. The people we wound up dealing with were not kind, Gabriel. Your lives would have been horrid. We never let on that we had children. I wish I could tell you everything."

Gabriel tightens his jaw, looking up to avoid crying. "Does Michael know?" he whispers.

"No," she says. "He knows as much as you do. And we're going to keep it that way."

"Does he know you're here?" is his next question. "Do any of them?"

"I thought they would be here," she murmurs. "I thought you all would be right here."

"I have their numbers," Gabriel says. "You can call. I don't know how receptive they're going to be, but you can call."

He looks down to Hannah. "Get me a piece of paper and a pen, kiddo."

She nods and hurries off, brushing passed Anna and Cas.

Becky looks at them.

She smiles, but it's weak, and Gabriel knows that Anna and Cas are unforgiving. They might be understanding, but they never forget anything, and earning their trust will be difficult. Alfie and Hannah will fall to them easily. And if there's anything that Gabriel remembers about Michael, it's that he is even colder than the twins, a mind and heart as sharp as a fresh cut diamond. He protects himself. And Luke is volatile, difficult to predict and even harder to control. Raphael is similar to Michael, but where Michael has always loved his family, Raphael has only worked for himself.

Becky and Chuck Novak will have a fight on their hands if they want to return to their children.

Gabriel takes the pen and paper from Hannah, scribbles down his brother's phone numbers, then hesitates. He writes his own down as well.

"Here," he mutters, and once she has a hold of the paper, he says, "goodbye," and closes the door.

…

Gabriel is at school for the next several weeks, but all he can think about is the fact that he's given his phone number to his long-lost mother and that she, or his older brothers, might call at any second.

Ms. Jameson has tried to reach him to no avail. He's lost in his own head. He's opened the door to his siblings, the people he has sworn to protect as best he can, and he knows how easily children's hearts break from experience. Anna and Cas, he doesn't worry about, but Alfie and Hannah…

His phone rings just as Sam walks into the theatre classroom, two weeks after Becky showed up.

He has spoken to Sam in short sentences, and once Sam realized that it wasn't personal, he stopped being upset at Gabriel. It's one less thing for Gabriel to worry about, really.

He looks at the caller id and nearly bursts into tears when Michael's name flashes at him.

"Fuck," he whispers, then picks up the phone. "Hello, Michael."

"Gabriel," Michael greets. "How are you?"

"Fine," he says shortly. "I take it Mom called you?"

Ms. Jameson looks up sharply when she hears that. She is very much aware of the situation at Gabriel's home, and she knows that Gabriel's parents are not good news.

"She did," Michael says. "She called Luke and Raphael first, though, from my understanding. Luke called me in the middle of the night to pick a fight over it until he realized that I knew nothing. I told him I'd talk to you. You're welcome."

"Yeah, thanks," Gabriel says sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "So what's the verdict?"

"We're all coming home. I've taken a two month leave from work, and Luke has the holiday break the same time you do, so there's no issue there. Raphael is flying back from India."

"India?" Gabriel repeats. "When the hell did he go to India?"

Michael pauses, and Gabriel can just imagine his brother's eyes looking up and his fingers moving as he counts. "Eleven months ago."

"Well, shit," Gabriel says. "He didn't think to let me know? I thought he was still in Florida."

"His internship took him elsewhere."

"Obviously."

Gabriel sighs, grinning in an overly cheerful manner at Ms. Jameson, who just looks unimpressed. "So when do I get you all at the airport?" he asks Michael.

"I will catch a cab this weekend to the house," Michael responds. "It will be three weeks before Luke can make it there, and Raphael has assured me that he will be there before the month ends, but only God knows when that will actually be."

Gabriel snorts. "Yeah, no kidding."

There's quiet for a minute, and Gabriel debates hanging up just before Michael starts speaking again. "I know I'm not much better than Mom and Dad, but you are alright, down there?" he asks.

Gabriel lets out a laugh that sounds more like a sob. "I'm raising four children by myself while still in high school," he snaps. "How the fuck do you think we are?"

Gabriel can just see Michael wince. "I'm sorry," he responds.

"No, you're not," Gabriel rebukes. "If you were sorry, you would've come home. You were twenty years old when they left, and you were our legal guardian. If you were sorry, we wouldn't have had to fend for ourselves. If you were sorry, you would have kept in contact, at the very least. Do you even remember how old Hannah is? Do you know what Cas' favorite color is, or who Anna's best friend is? Do you know what Alfie does in his free time?" His voice breaks. "Do you know how alone we all are?"

He doesn't care that an entire class is listening to his side of the conversation, and he doesn't care that he's started crying. Sam is staring at him, and Ms. Jameson is standing at the front of the classroom in silence, watching.

Michael is quiet. "No," he eventually says. "No, I don't know."

Gabriel starts laughing. He can't help it. He laughs so hard his head starts to hurt. "I never would've fucking guessed," he gasps out. "You're no better than Mom, Dad, or any of the rest of our godforsaken family. You - the thing I remember the most about you is how you fucking screamed at Luke and Raphael, how loud you all were, in the middle of the night, and how I closed my eyes when I saw the headlights of your car leave the driveway.

"And I hate that it takes our fucking parents to bring you home. Not the voicemails I left you. Not the letters Hannah wrote. Not the way Cas and Anna would cry. Not that Luke and Raphael abandoned us, too. I was in eighth grade when I became their sole guardian. And you never came home. Fuck, I thought you were dead."

And Michael has no answer to that. Gabriel didn't really expect one. "Fuck you. I'll see you this weekend."

He hangs up, then stares at the phone. He's never been so furious in his whole life. When Becky showed up it was too sudden, too shocking. But Gabriel was waiting for that phone call and he's honestly surprised at how tame he was.

He has so much more that he'd like to say, but he couldn't get the words out if he tried.

"…Gabriel?" Sam ventures, and he looks over, meeting the hazel eyes of Sam Winchester with a blank expression.

"Be grateful that your brother loves you," he says.

…

There are no new rumors after that phone call, despite the class of thirty that heard it. He doesn't know if that's because it wasn't spread around, which he doubts, or because they all pity him enough to leave him alone for the first time in his life.

Either way, he's grateful for the reprieve.

Friday comes and the day goes by way too fast.

He's ready to pull his hair out as he walks his normal route through the back corners of the campus to avoid people. He stops short.

He steps closer, taking care to be quiet. "I wouldn't blame you if you skimp out on us and go to Dean's," he says, then watches, slightly amused, as Cas and Dean leap apart, their hair ruffled and their lips kiss-bruised. There's high color on both of their cheeks and Cas won't even look at him.

"Please," Dean says, "please don't tell anyone."

Gabriel looks at him, confused. "Dude, I don't care. I figured out you were gay in freshman year. If I cared about people knowing, they already would."

Dean looks shocked and Cas' head shoots up. "What? How the hell-"

"What kind of guy gets onto a cheer team and doesn't hook up with at least one of the girls at one point? You never even looked sideways at them, and since my friend Kali is on the team, I was a lot of the practices to figure that out. But I did see the gay porn in your locker once," Gabriel admits. "I was ditching class that day and caught you getting something out of there while no one else was around."

Dean leans back against the wall, eyes wide. "Well, damn," he says. "I guess I owe you one."

Gabriel snorts. "Whatever. You were never any of my business, Winchester. I don't care if you think you owe me one or not." He looks back to Cas. "So, are you going or not?"

"Uh," Cas says. "Going where?"

"To Dean's?" Gabriel responds, raising his eyebrows. "I just said that I wouldn't blame you if you weren't part of the welcome parade for Michael."

Cas started shaking his head midway through the sentence. "He's my brother," he says.

"Hardly. You were eleven, Cassie, and he walked out. He's a douchebag."

"So it's true?" Dean asks, "what Sam said about your family?"

Gabriel and Cas turn at once to look at Dean, who flushes. "Sorry," he says. "It's just. Not every day you hear something like that."

"Yeah, it's all true," Gabriel says. "As much as I wish it weren't. Cas, are you going to Dean's or not?"

"No," Cas says firmly. "No, I'm coming home."

Gabriel checks his phone for the time. "Fine. Then we need to get going because I need to get dinner on the table. He'll be here at seven and I want everything ready."

"If he's a douche why are you doing that?" Dean asks.

"Because I'm better than he is," Gabriel says, wishing that he could just give up. "I am not going to show Hannah and Alfie that it's okay to treat someone badly just because they hurt you. You don't fight fire with fire. That only hurts worse."

Dean's countenance visibly saddens, but Gabriel doesn't want his pity. "I'm going home," he says, and walks right passed them.

…

Cas caught up to him fairly quickly, and they enter the house together.

It's quiet. The high school gets out earlier than the elementary school, so Alfie and Hannah will be home later. Gabriel can faintly hear Anna's music from upstairs. "You can head up," he tells Cas, who hesitates. "It's fine. Go be with Anna. I know you want to be."

"It'll be okay," Cas says, then dashes up the stairs.

Gabriel stands there and stares after him, wishing that he had the same faith.

…

Alfie and Hannah walk into the house at three thirty. He waves at them and they both run over. "Hi, Gabriel," Hannah says, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Hey, kiddo," he says, smiling. He ruffles Alfie's hair and laughs lightly when the kid ducks away. "How was school?"

Alfie swings himself onto the empty counter space, kicking his feet back and forth. "Fine," he says. "But I hate division."

"Uh-oh, don't let Anna hear you say that," Gabriel says, smirking.

Alfie rolls his eyes, leaning back against the wall and grabbing an apple from the basket. "She's just crazy," he says, taking a bite out of the apple.

"We're learning about the layers of the earth," Hannah announces.

Gabriel glances down at her, reaching for a knife from the block. He grabs the onion he'd set out earlier and starts cutting. "Oh, yeah?" he asks, looking at the onion and the cutting board to make sure he doesn't slit his finger. "What about it, then?"

She goes on to explain the things that Gabriel learned and forgot once it became evident that he wouldn't need it anymore. He finds himself nodding at the right parts and adding commentary when it's needed, telling her short stories from when he was in third grade. He takes care not to mention anything that was going on at home. Alfie corrects her a few times, leading to a scowling Hannah and a short fight that Gabriel breaks up with sharp words.

"Can you grab the garlic salt from the cabinet, Alfie?"

"Let me show you - here, the Imperial system sucks, so I'm gonna show you how to measure things that they'll never teach you in school…"

"You want green beans or carrots?"

It doesn't take long, so before four, Gabriel has the roast in the crock pot with the vegetables - both carrots and green beans, turns out, which Gabriel isn't sure about, but hey - turned on and it'll ready before it gets too late.

He sinks into one to the kitchen chairs and puts his head in his hands. He feels the burn of tears and wills it back. He takes only another second to breathe before he runs his fingers through his hair and puts on a smile for Alfie and Hannah.

Anna and Cas are extremely perceptive. They know Gabriel has problems. But Gabriel would do anything to make sure that Hannah and Alfie stay oblivious as long as possible.

He's an actor, after all.

…

Michael rings the doorbell five minutes till seven and that promptly shatters any vague idea that Gabriel was harboring that maybe, just maybe, this was a hideous nightmare that he would wake up from.

Gabriel takes a deep breath and then opens the door just as Hannah skids into the hall from the living room. "Michael," Gabriel says, stepping aside.

"Hello, Gabriel," he says, looking around curiously as he enters. "Hello, Hannah."

"I don't actually remember you," Hannah announces, and Gabriel has a half second to feel absolutely horrified before Michael just shakes his head with a huff of laughter.

"I know, Hannah. I know you don't."

"Michael?"

He looks up the stairs, meeting the eyes of Cas and Anna with a faint smile. "Hello," he calls, and fuck, does he know any other greetings? It's so stuffy.

Gabriel closes the door much more quietly than he'd like to. "Michael, your room is still where you left it. I'll get dinner on the table," he says. "Alfie, make sure to leave your phone upstairs. There's no need to have it at the dinner table. Hannah, do you want to get napkins?"

Alfie scowls at him just as Hannah nods enthusiastically and runs back into the kitchen. Cas and Anna make their way downstairs. Alfie has disappeared to put his phone away. Anna walks right passed Michael without blinking, but Cas manages a smile before following his twin.

Michael picks up his suitcases and heads up the stairs without another word, and Gabriel just about sinks into the floor.

He takes a deep breath and walks into the kitchen.

Anna has put the plates and silverware out, her face solemn. Cas is dishing the food into a presentable dish, the crock pot off, and Gabriel is relieved that Cas managed to find one of their mother's old dishes that Gabriel could never bring himself to get rid of.

It's one of the only things left that he hasn't thrown out and replaced over the years.

Hannah has chosen napkins that don't match in the least, and while Anna looks concerned, Gabriel just smiles at her, so Anna lets it go. Cas puts the food on the table and Alfie finally comes into the kitchen, sliding into his chair.

Cas and Anna lean against the counter and Gabriel is standing numbly in the doorway, just looking.

They have dinner like this almost four days a week on average. Gabriel has enough money from their parents to buy good food and he has a hidden stash of sweets under his bed. Their dishes are always clean and there's amazingly never any issue with getting everyone to make sure that everything else is, too. Maybe they know that Gabriel just can't do it alone.

He jumps when Michael brushes passed him with a hand on his shoulder. He stops short when he sees the kitchen. He looks over at Gabriel. "Did you clean the whole house before I got here?" he asks.

Gabriel blinks, insulted. "It always looks like this," he says.

"We're not heathens," Anna snaps, her temper flaring as easily as it always does. Cas grabs her hand without looking at her. She bites her lip but the fire in her eyes doesn't diminish.

"Sorry," Michael says, looking away. "I just. You're all so young, I expected…"

"Just sit down," Gabriel says, not in any mood to chew Michael out again.

Amazingly, Michael does as he's told without asking.

It's quiet while Cas takes the opportunity to serve everyone. Alfie barely spares a second to start eating, and Michael looks scandalized. "Do you not say grace?" he demands.

"No," Gabriel, Anna, and Cas say in unison.

"I got rid of all of that stuff first. They're welcome to bring religion into their lives if they want it but I don't believe in God," Gabriel says, eyes downcast.

Michael grits his teeth but says his prayer on his own, looking haggard as he does it.

Gabriel would give just about anything to be anywhere else, with anyone else, even if it meant putting up with Cindy.

Alfie finishes his food before anyone else, and Gabriel watches, detached, as he gets seconds and just keeps going. The kid burns calories faster than anyone Gabriel has ever seen so he doesn't say anything.

Hannah, normally so bubbly at dinner, is silent, picking at her food. "Eat," Gabriel says softly, petting her hair.

She looks up. Gabriel repeats himself, keeping his voice low, deliberately ignoring the weight of Michael's stare on his back.

Hannah eats.

He meets Cas' eyes across the table, and Cas raises his eyebrows, pointing vaguely with his fork toward Gabriel's plate. He can plainly read Cas' expression, but Gabriel is fairly certain that if he ate anything now, he would throw up.

Michael sets his fork down. "You kept my room the same," he says.

Everyone looks at him.

"Why?" he asks.

Gabriel shrugs. "Wasn't any point in emptying it, really. We never have anyone over."

"So you're alone here," Michael says.

"Yes," Cas replies, cutting the meat without looking at Michael. "If we want company, we go elsewhere."

Guilt begins to sink into Michael's expression, his eyes darkening. "How have you done it, Gabriel?" he asks.

"I had no choice," Gabriel says.

"Do what?" Hannah asks, tapping her fork on the side of the plate. She looks eager for the conversation.

"Raise you," Michael says softly.

Hannah brightens. "Gabriel's the best," she says. "He's really good at helping me with my homework." She glances at him, smile wide.

She doesn't understand, Gabriel chants to himself, even as he smiles back.

He's just lucky that he hasn't killed them accidentally.

There's another knock on the door, and Gabriel's head snaps to the side, heart in his throat.

He stands quickly, keeping his knife in hand.

"Gabriel?" Michael asks, clearly shocked.

"He always answers the door with a weapon," Hannah says, "We're not allowed to touch them, but he always has them."

Gabriel can't see Michael's face, but he knows it isn't good.

He opens the door and just about dies.

He smiles, strained. "We're still eating dinner, but you can get a plate. Everything's warm," he says.

Raphael steps into the house. "Thank you," he says quietly. "I'll leave my things upstairs." He glances over. "Which room am I using, if I am?"

"Your old room," Gabriel replies, and watches his brother nod and ascend the stairs.

He was barely prepared for Michael. He hadn't expected Raphael, too. Not tonight, anyway.

He blinks back tears.

He shakes himself out of it and walks back into the kitchen. He gets another plate and sets it at one of the empty places at the table, getting food and putting it on there. Then he sits down, shoves his plate out of the way, and slams his head on the table.

He tries to breathe, tries to make sure he doesn't humiliate himself. He might be related to these people, but they are not his family, and he doesn't want them to call the authorities, he doesn't want to lose his home, his siblings, he doesn't want any of this to be happening. He wasn't happy before, but his siblings were, and that was all that mattered.

Hannah slides her hand in to his, and he lifts his head to look at her. For once, she doesn't smile at him. She just squeezes his hand tighter.

Raphael walks into the kitchen, eyes scanning the room. "Hello," he says, "is this mine?" he asks, pointing at the empty place.

"Yes," Gabriel croaks, then clears his throat. "Yes."

"Did you make it?" Raphael continues, sitting down, casting curious eyes to Gabriel.

"Yes," he repeats. Raphael nods, looking down.

He starts eating, seemingly not at all concerned with everyone else. Then he looks back to Gabriel. "It's well done," he says, and some of the tension bleeds from Gabriel's shoulders.

"Thank you."

…

Gabriel is staring through a sheen of tears at his phone. He can't make out anything on the screen, but he supposes that it doesn't really matter.

Then his phone pings with a text, so he wipes his eyes.

_I have Sam's phone number if you want it_ , Cas wrote.

He frowns. _Why would I want it?_ He asks.

_Because I know you get along with Sam better than anyone at school, and you need someone other than family to talk to._

Stupid meddling little brothers.

He doesn't even get to reply to that before he gets a text with what he presumes is Sam's phone number.

He stares at it for a long time.

It's not all that late. Barely nine. He's lucky that both Michael and Raphael are exhausted from their flights, so they went to bed just after dinner. The rest of his siblings dispersed as they pleased after that.

He types the phone number into a new text box and sends, _This is Gabriel Novak. Got your number from my younger brother Cas. Is this Sam Winchester?_

_Yes._

The reply is instant.

_How are you, Gabriel?_

_I'm fine, kiddo. And you?_

This feels amazingly forced.

_Fantastic._

_You know, I never lied to you when I said I wanted to be your friend._

_The offer still stands, if you want._

Gabriel bites his lip.

_I'd like that._

…

Gabriel finds out a lot about Sam after that. The kid never shuts up. They talk well passed two in the morning, and Gabriel find himself smiling despite the turmoil.

_I can't believe you've never even been to the movies_ , Sam writes.

_No time._

_You're an actor._

_So?_

He doesn't bother to say that he's a theatre student that stars in high school plays, not technically an actor.

He isn't sure that Sam would see the difference.

Gabriel learns more about Sam in these few hours than he has in the four months that he's known him.

And for the first time, he's able to see what it might be like for his siblings.

Sam's mother died when he was a baby. He has no memories of her, but Dean does. Sam's father has taken them all around the country, and it wasn't until Dean entered high school that they had a home. Sam's father is an alcoholic, so he's never there even when he's in the house. Dean has raised Sam for all his life, and they don't know anything different. Sam reveals that he wears patterned shirts to hide the blood splatters that Gabriel saw when they met. It's because John Winchester is a particularly violent drunk. Dean takes most of the beatings and somehow manages to smile and captain the cheer team without anyone knowing.

Sam wants to be lawyer, someone who handles child service cases. He's so invested in it, so passionate. He says he took the theatre class because he knows it can help with memorizing speeches and talking in front of an audience. Dean supports him every step of the way, making sure that Sam gets all new school things every year, that he has fresh food and that he doesn't get hurt.

Sam tells him that he knows there are things Dean is hiding from him, dangerous things, but he can't tell Gabriel because they aren't his secrets to tell.

He says more mundane things, too. He wants a dog more than anything. He wishes on stars when he feels most lost. If he had a choice, he'd choose to build his own home than live in a pre-built one. He'd paint it a light green because that's his favorite color. He doesn't care if he marries someone or not, but if he does, he doesn't care if it's a woman or not, and he's afraid that if he tells Dean that, Dean will be furious.

It's then that Gabriel is able to really provide reassurance, that he knows for a fact that Dean won't be mad.

It takes Sam a while to respond to that one, but Gabriel doesn't really worry because it's late now, and Sam could very well have fallen asleep.

Sam hasn't asked many questions, probably because he figures that Gabriel won't answer, but he asks one now: _Would you care?_

_No. I personally don't care if I fall in love with a woman or not either. If I ever do. Haven't had much luck in the dating realm in the past, so I've long since stopped looking._

_I'm sorry._

_I'm not. People are exhausting._

_Still. I'd mind._

_I'm concerned about my siblings. That's all that matters._

_Dean says that sometimes too. That I'm all that matters. Is that a big brother thing?_

_I think that's a "We've raised our siblings" thing, honestly. My older brothers don't give a flying fuck and I know my younger siblings don't feel that way to anyone who happens to be younger in the line._

_How many siblings do you have?_

_I'm number four out of eight._

_That's ridiculous._

_My parents don't believe in birth control._

_Ugh._

_No kidding._

Gabriel glances over at the clock. _Listen. It's nearly three am. We can talk more later, yeah?_

_Promise? You're flighty as hell._

_Yeah, kiddo. I promise. Text me whenever you want. I'm gonna be dealing with my shitty family tomorrow but I'll keep my phone on hand._

_Okay. Good night, Gabriel._

_Night, Sammy._

…

Gabriel never thought that he would be excited to go to school.

But after an incredibly tense, awkward weekend where Michael tried too hard to be kind and Raphael tried too hard to be polite, that's exactly where Gabriel finds himself.

He's out of bed twenty minutes before his alarm is supposed to go off, opening his eyes to a completely dark room. It's even more depressing than it usually is.

When he looks at the time, he has to blink back the spots that come with looking at the florescent lighting of the phone in the dark. He rolls his eyes as soon as the time comes into view and cancels his alarm.

Using his phone as a flashlight, he heads into his adjacent bathroom and flicks the lights on to a low setting. It's still too bright but at least it's not as bright as it could be.

He turns on the shower and stands there for a second debating whether or not it would be worth it to get a towel out of the linen closet down the hall or just use the one hanging on the rack. It's not like he uses it for anything other than drying his hands, so he just shrugs and grabs his toothbrush.

His eyes are more adjusted to light when he steps out of the shower.

They aren't normally, which is what he counts on because then he can't see in the mirror.

He catches sight of himself and feels the wave of darkness overcome him in the half second it takes to absorb the sight. He feels numb, unable to look away.

No one but Cas and his teachers are aware, and he wants to keep it that way.

He told his siblings that he crashed his bike and that's why he ended up in the hospital.

But Cas had been the one to find him, passed out in his bathroom with two dark, deep cuts running down his arms.

They'd been deeper than normal, and the shock of that amount of blood had paralyzed him. He hadn't moved fast enough to get to the first aid kit, hadn't gotten far enough before the blood loss knocked him out. He would have died if Cas hadn't come home with a fever that day.

Even though he isn't opposed to dying, per se, if it were an accident, he's not actively searching for a way out. The woman at the hospital told him that meant he was still suicidal, and he'd been on suicide watch until he was a senior.

The scars will never fade.

Not the long, near fatal ones on his arms, not the short, shallow ones on his legs. Thousands of tiny cuts, deep rivets in his skin where he's been known to scratch layers off while being zoned out.

He always wears long sleeves, always wears sneakers because he's scratched the top of his feet so much that there are circular holes in them.

He is the only one who knows the true extent of the damage. Not even the doctors knew.

He doesn't know how long he stands there before he can bear to look away, to make his way over to the wardrobe where his clothes are.

As soon as he gets boxers on, he falls to the floor, unable to even cry.

…

It's Cas who knows to come get him.

"Gabriel," he murmurs, just as the sun starts bleeding rays into the room.

"I can't," he whispers. "I can't, Cas."

"You don't have to," Cas says in return. He sits down next to him. "Everyone is awake. Do you want me to stay with you or will you be okay?"

"Go to school, Cassie," he says.

Cas hesitates, then sighs, and presses his forehead to Gabriel's. "I'm so sorry."

"It's not like you told them to come waltzing back into our lives," Gabriel says, bitter.

Cas just sighs again. "Get some rest, okay? I'll tell Michael and Raphael I'll castrate them if they bother you."

"Thanks," he mutters.

Gabriel pretends not to notice as Cas takes the box with the gun and the knife from under the mattress when he leaves.

…

It seems like Michael is just as bad at following rules as Luke was when he puts his mind to it.

Gabriel eventually managed to get himself back into his pajamas, curled under his blankets with Netflix playing _Love, Actually._

Michael knocks on the door and enters without waiting for a response.

Gabriel isn't sure, in this moment, if he'd rather kill Michael or himself.

"What?" he asks dully, not moving.

"You didn't go to school," Michael says.

"Wow. What an incredibly astute observation," Gabriel says, completely deadpan. "Now go away."

"Are you okay?"

"I was fine, then you walked in. Now, go away, otherwise I'm going to kick you."

Michael sighs, and Gabriel watches carefully as he sits on the edge of the bed.

"You're not the only one in the family to feel like this, you know," he says, offhand.

"I don't care," Gabriel snaps. "I just don't care."

"I never expected that you would be a victim of depression, Gabriel. You were so bright."

Gabriel reaches for the scissors he has on his bedside table and sits up quickly, tears burning in his eyes. Michael's eyes widen and he shoves his hand up in front of his face. The blades of the scissors cut through his hand, and the blood drips down onto Gabriel's sheets in slow droplets. 

"Didn't you hear me, Michael?" Gabriel says, choking now on his own emotions. "I don't care. Leave me alone. Go away. We were fine. We were just fine without you."

He's screaming by the end of it, and Raphael skids into the room, panting with wide eyes.

"What happened?" he demands, rushing into the room to look at Michael's hand.

"I told him to leave," Gabriel snarls. "I'm telling you the same thing. Get the fuck out."

Raphael and Michael stare at him and don't move.

He closes his eyes to block out their faces, dropping the scissors. He hears one of them take them quickly, tossing them onto the carpet. There's movement, then warmth on either side of him.

He doesn't resist when Michael draws him close, guiding his face into his shoulder. Michael starts humming, an old lullaby that Gabriel can barely remember. Raphael's hand runs over his shoulders in soothing circles, and Gabriel, while still so angry, so hurt, finds himself sinking into their embrace just like he did when they were children.

He has no will to resist anymore. He just can't take it.

So he cries, curling his fingers weakly into Michael's shirt, taking in gasping breaths while he can and sobbing when he can't. Michael keeps humming and Raphael moves closer, pressing his forehead to Gabriel's back, right between his shoulder blades.

…

Gabriel is jolted awake by sudden pressure on his bed.

He jumps, gasping, heart beating fast. There's a groan above him and a sigh next to him, but he barely hears it because all he can see is the scrape on Hannah's forehead.

"What happened?" he demands, reaching for her. She just smiles and laughs, accepting his embrace easily. He presses his fingers lightly to the cut, checking it. "Well, it's not bleeding and it's been cleaned. Did the nurse do that at school?" he asks. She nods, and nods again when he asks if she shined a light in her eyes.

The nurse would've called if there'd been a concussion, so he sighs in relief, leaning back.

"You're going to give me a heart attack before I'm twenty, child," he says, overly dramatic.

She just laughs again, shoving his face. He throws himself to the side to continue the dramatics, drawing more laughter from his sister. He grins.

There's another snort of laughter, and Gabriel glances up at Raphael, realizing with a jolt of shock and pain that he can't recall what Raphael sounded like when he laughed. He can't remember the last time he and his older brothers were together, truly as brothers and not burdens on one another.

"Gabriel!" Hannah calls, and he looks away from Raphael to Hannah.

"What?" he groans, not moving.

"Alfie found ice cream in the freezer, can we have some, please please please?" she asks.

"Go ahead," he says, waving his hand dismissively.

She leaves without looking back, nearly falling over in her haste.

He looks at Michael and Raphael, only to find them staring at him. "I have no idea why Alfie thought it would be a good idea to hunt for my ice cream," he says, resigned.

Michael rolls his eyes.

"Are you feeling better?" Raphael asks as Michael brushes Gabriel's hair back.

He shrugs. "There's no such thing as better. There's just less overwhelmed."

"That's very bleak," Michael states plainly.

"I don't care," Gabriel huffs, pushing himself up. He cracks his knuckles and his neck, enjoying the way he can see both his brothers wince as he does it. Once he's up, he points to the door. "Shoo. I'm in pajamas and I don't think I need to be," he says.

"Bossy," Michael says, wrinkling his nose as he stands.

"You learn to be, raising four kids," Gabriel huffs, and he quietly enjoys the way they wince at that, too.

They might have been there today, but they have five long years to make up for, and Gabriel plans to make sure they know it.

…

He goes to school the next day.

Ms. Jameson nearly faints with relief when she sees him, pulling him into a hug before he can even walk in the door.

"I'm glad you're okay," she says. "Your brother stopped by and told me what was going on."

Gabriel scowls as they separate. "He needs to stop meddling where he's not wanted."

"It was bad yesterday, wasn't it?" she asks, voice gentle.

He looks at her.

"I always get up before the sun so I don't get a clear look in the mirror," he says, pressing his hand to one of the scars without thinking about it. "But I woke before my alarm and my eyes adjusted to the light of my phone. I could see more clearly than I usually can."

"What, are you blind?"

They turn around when Sam walks in, a smile on his face. "You didn't text me yesterday," he accuses, dropping his bag in his seat.

"My brothers were being a pain in the ass," Gabriel says, shrugging. He drops his hand.

"They hold you hostage or something?" Sam asks, the smile still firmly on his face.

"Well, they wouldn't leave me alone, that's for sure," Gabriel responds, making sure his eye roll is extremely obvious.

Sam laughs. Ms. Jameson hands Gabriel the bag of candy from her desk.

…

"Hey!"

Gabriel turns around, waving Cas and Anna on as he catches sight of Sam. Only Anna walks away because Dean isn't far behind Sam.

"Can we come over?" Sam asks, panting as he meets them. "Our uncle Bobby is out of town and since he's usually home we didn't think to make a key. It'll be late before our aunt Ellen gets home from work."

Gabriel swallows back the initial panic that comes with the request, unused to letting anyone other than family inside his home. Then he shrugs, because he knows Sam reasonably well and if Cas is dating Dean then there's no issue with him, either. "I guess," he agrees.

"Thank you!" Sam cheers, his smile too big for his face.

"Yeah, whatever. This way," he says.

Anna isn't too far ahead. She's leaning on a tree, waiting. She frowns when she sees Sam and Dean. "Why are they here?" she asks, more confused than anything, which is a relief.

"They're coming over," Cas says, and Anna's eyes widen.

"You must be something else," she tells them, eyeing them like she's never seen them before.

Sam pulls a face. "What? Why?"

"No one comes to our house. No one," Anna replies, then kicks off the tree and starts walking.

…

It's too early for Alfie and Hannah to be home, so there isn't any noise besides the television in the living room.

"Hello!" Michael calls, Raphael echoing the greeting.

"Come meet Sam and Dean!" Gabriel calls.

The TV turns off, and both men walk into the hall, curious.

Gabriel lets Cas do the introductions, walking up the stairs to his room. He throws his backpack in the corner and fires up his computer, sitting at his desk. He leaves the door open because he figures one of them will be up here before long.

It isn't even five minutes later that there's a light knock. Gabriel turns to see Sam hesitating in the doorway, looking around the room before looking at Gabriel and then around the room again.

"Uh. Michael, I think it was, said I could come up here?" he says.

"'Course," Gabriel says, and watches Sam relax immediately.

"Wasn't sure, because I know you're the head of the house, not him," Sam says, laughing slightly.

He rolls his eyes, leaning back in his chair. "You're welcome anywhere in the house, Sammy. Including my sibling's rooms, though I doubt they'd appreciate that," he says with a wink, and Sam laughs louder.

"Where can I put my stuff?" Sam asks. He points to the corner where he threw his bag, and Sam puts his down with more caution than Gabriel has ever shown his school shit.

Sam stands there awkwardly after that, so Gabriel rolls his eyes again. "You can sit down," he says, tone mocking.

The kid jumps a little, forcing out another awkward laugh.

"Sorry," Sam says. "Your sister said that no one comes over, so I wasn't sure…"

Gabriel shakes his head, typing in his computer password. "No, no one comes over. I don't like people here, and when I did let my siblings have friends over, they always said the house was so cold, that it was weird and unsettling that we didn't have parents. So I just stopped inviting people. The last thing I need is people reminding me of what I've lost."

"That… really sucks," Sam says, finally deciding to kick his shoes off and sit on Gabriel's bed.

"I've never said they can't go elsewhere, and eventually, kids stopped asking to come here. I guess word got out that they weren't welcome."

"Huh." Sam looks around, biting his lip. "So what do you do around here?"

"Me, or my siblings?" Gabriel asks. "'Cause my brother Alfie isn't here unless it's to sleep or eat; he's at soccer practice or a friend's house all the time. Hannah sits in her room with her art supplies, and Cas and Anna do god knows what. I never ask. They're old enough to take care of themselves."

Sam's lips quirk up into a smile. "I asked what you do, Gabriel," he says.

He snorts, pointing to his computer. "There's this amazing thing called Blizzard Entertainment. I pay monthly fees to play video games."

"That's it?" Sam asks, his smile much wider now. "Your house is huge, dude. Like, three times the size of mine. And you sit in here all day?"

"I clean and I cook," Gabriel says flatly. "This place doesn't run itself, you know. And I'm the only one competent enough with a stove to be trusted with it. Cas can burn water and Anna flat out refuses."

Sam's smile is gone now.

Gabriel vaguely wonders what he did wrong, but he doesn't try to rectify anything, just sits there and blinks at his guest.

Sam shifts, looking down. He swallows. "When you said you raised your siblings, I didn't really think that through," he says. "I didn't realize that you do everything."

"Oh, I don't," Gabriel says. "Cas and Anna do quite a bit around here, too. I just do most of it. This is a three story house with thirty five hundred square feet and five people living here. The work is endless. Hannah and Alfie are starting to take some of the workload, too."

"I do dishes and laundry," Sam confesses. "And that's it. Dean works in the salvage yard during the day and at our aunt Ellen's bar at night. It's not much more beyond cleaning floors and tables."

"Don't pity me," Gabriel snaps, leaning forward, catching the guilty look on Sam's face a mile away. "I choose this. I could've run away. I could leave them to do whatever they want. I could still call CPS since I'm not their legal guardian. I could-" he stops, biting back the rest of his words.

He could kill himself.

Sam looks mildly startled. "I didn't think of it that way, either," he says, sounding resigned.

So Gabriel waves it away. "All I'm saying, kiddo, is that it isn't fun and games for me here. I enjoy my work because I can turn the music on high and watch Hannah put fluffy socks on and slide across the floors. I help with their homework, and let me tell you, there is nothing like having them finally understand what they're learning and know that I was the one to get them there. Alfie and I play in the yard with the soccer ball even though I'm shit at it. He laughs at me when I screw up and as long as he's enjoying himself, that's fine. I've sat through countless episodes of TV dramas that I don't care about because Anna likes them. I take Cas to the library and then have to listen to him rant about fucking bees for a week. Do you know how much I care about bees, Sam?"

The kid is laughing, now, eyes closed, shoulders shaking, barely breathing. Gabriel didn't think it was that damn funny, but he doesn't plan on saying anything because Sam is beautiful like this, tears of laughter in the corners of his eyes and blood in his cheeks.

"Sorry, sorry," Sam gasps, "you just were waving your arms around and you were so loud about it, and, fuck -"

Gabriel starts laughing too. "You're an idiot," he says fondly, so Sam throws a pillow at him.

He catches it and throws it back.

It hits Sam square in the face and Gabriel laughs even harder. Sam looks so startled, eyes wide and faux betrayal on his face. "You suck," Sam says.

"Quite," Gabriel agrees, catching his breath.

"Gabriel!"

He groans, getting up and walking to the door. "What?" he screams, not in the mood to deal with Michael in this moment.

"What's the Wi-Fi password?" he calls.

"What? Can't you read?" Gabriel demands. "It's on the fridge!" He turns to Sam, shaking his head. "He's been here for three days and hasn't noticed. Fucking moron," he says mournfully.

Sam snorts, shaking his head.

…

Hannah starts whining, and it takes Gabriel ten minutes to realize what's wrong.

"Oh, fuck," he says, "it's like, an hour past dinner time."

Sam stares at him. "You're going to cook now?" he asks.

Gabriel stares at him in return. "Of course not. That's what takeout is for, duh."

"Do you want to come to aunt Ellen's bar?" Sam asks. "It's a restaurant before it's a bar, technically, and it's kid friendly."

He bites his lip. He never takes them anywhere, and he figures, well. Michael and Raphael can help if something goes wrong, though he doubt it will, really. He glances at Sam. "What's the price range?" he asks. "Tight on money this month because I've gotta pay for three extra people."

"Free," Sam says dismissively. "My family owns it, you're my friend, you get things on the house."

"Sam, I can't-"

"You can and you will," Sam says firmly.

Sam doesn't back down, so Gabriel gives up arguing with him because Hannah starts getting even more upset. "Fine!" he says finally, after several minutes of back and forth, throwing his hands up. "I won't pay at your bar."

"Good," Sam says, smirking in triumph.

"Anyone ever tell you you're pushy as hell?" Gabriel asks, pulling his shoes on and grabbing his wallet, keys, and phone.

"Dean does, all the time," Sam says.

This earns him yet another eye roll before Gabriel calls for his family to get their shit together, they're going out.

…

The Roadhouse is not what Gabriel would normally choose. There are some pretty rough looking people inside, and everyone seems to be having a conversation with everyone else, giving the distinct feeling that Gabriel is intruding on something.

He's got his hands on Alfie and Hannah's shoulders, shoving them into a round booth near the very back. They sit in the middle and Cas and Anna crowd them inside, automatically sensing Gabriel's unease. Michael and Raphael sit next to each other across from Gabriel. Dean doesn't sit with them, heading into the back, but Sam does, sliding next to Gabriel.

"Ellen will be over soon, or Ash. Or Jo," he says. "Hell, even Dean. He's on the clock now."

"Yup," Dean says, handing Sam a drink and a straw. He takes a notepad out of his belt and says, "We've got coke products, lemonade, water, and all kinds of liquor, though I will have to check your id."

He directs this last comment to Michael and Raphael, who nod. Raphael pulls his wallet out. "Tequila," he says. 

Dean takes his driver's license and blinks at it. "The fuck kind of driver's license is that?" he asks, handing it back.

"India," Raphael answers. "I live in India at the moment."

"Yeah, I got that," Dean says. "Never seen that before. We don't normally see anything other than Kansas licenses here." He turns back to everyone else and raises his eyebrows. He takes down the orders with the kind of efficiency that only comes with experience then glares at Sam. "Jesus, kid, do ya have to suck these things down so fast?" he demands, taking the drink away from his brother.

Sam just laughs at him.

Dean scowls and walks off.

"Sorry about him," a woman says, handing out menus. "Dean is grumpy as all hell today, god knows why."

"No beer," Sam offers, and the woman shakes her head.

"I hate to feed his addiction, but I guess I'm gonna have to so that he doesn't bite customer's heads off, huh, Sam?" she says.

He smiles in response, shrugging. "Dad's fault."

"Oh, honey, I know. If I wasn't going to be arrested, I'd kill him."

"I could help," Sam says, and she swats him over the head with a menu that she swipes off the table.

"That's your father, boy," she scolds. "Don't say such things."

Sam looks indignant rather than appropriately reprimanded. Gabriel laughs, so Sam steps on his foot, and the woman catches that, too, so she whacks him upside the head again.

"Where'd you manners go?" she demands.

"Sorry, aunt Ellen," Sam says meekly, sinking a little in his seat.

She just sighs. "My boys aren't behaving tonight," she says. "So because I know them, I'll apologize on their behalf since it'd be like pulling teeth to get them to say sorry."

Gabriel starts laughing in earnest. Sam glares at him. Dean walks up with a tray of drinks. Ellen moves out of the way, and as soon as the drinks are in order and not in danger of being dropped, Ellen hits Dean with the menu, too. "What the hell?" he demands, glaring at her.

"You didn't even bother with menus, I know for a fact that you handled alcohol instead of letting Ash do it like you're supposed to, you were five minutes late clocking in, and you didn't wipe down the table before they sat down," Ellen says. Dean stares at her. "Don't give me that look, boy. You know I'm right."

"What do you want from me?" Dean asks, looking slightly insulted and slightly guilty.

Ellen presses a kiss to his forehead and bops his nose with the menu. "I want you to do things right," she says. "Now," she puts the menu back on the table, "make sure nothing else goes wrong, and if this gentleman wants a refill on the tequila, you call Ash over, understand?"

"Yes, aunt Ellen," Dean says.

She nods and walks away. As soon as she out of ear shot, Dean scowls. "I want you to do things right," he repeats mockingly, taking a sip from Sam's drink. "You hear that, Sammy?"

"There's no pleasing her, you know that, dude," Sam says, unsympathetic.

Someone hollers from across the room, so Dean turns around and waves. "I'll let you take a look," he says. "Sam, your food is already started back there."

"Thanks, Dean!" he calls after him as he walks away.

…

The only reason why dinner isn't incredibly tense and awkward, like it was before, is because Sam never stops talking. He effortlessly entices everyone to talk, even grabbing people that Gabriel has never met into the conversation. More than once he's leaned over and said, "I've never met them before, you know?"

It's amazing, honestly.

And true to form, Ellen stops by and collects their plates when it's all said and done. "No charge for you, Novaks. You're welcome back anytime. Sam, what's your plan for tonight?"

Sam looks startled. "What?" he asks.

Ellen's eyebrows go up. "Dean said he wanted to stay with Cas tonight, so I assumed…"

Gabriel glares at his brother. "Did you invite Dean for the night?" he demands, unsure whether or not he's angry about this.

Cas sinks into the booth. His expression says it all.

He groans, burying his face in his hands. "Dammit, Cas," he murmurs. "Fine, fine," he says, louder. "Winchesters get a free pass, I guess."

"So I can stay over, too?" Sam asks with thinly bared excitement. Gabriel nods, not lifting his head, so he jumps a little in shock when Sam wraps his arms around him, cheering a little. He looks at the freshman, eyes wide and heart racing.

When he looks at his siblings, Alfie raises his eyebrows with a smirk. "You've got a crush," he mouths, so Gabriel scowls and flips him off. Alfie's usually a nice kid, too, Gabriel muses bitterly.

"Okay, then," Ellen says, "I'll see you boys when you decide to come home, okay? You've got your duffels in Dean's car?"

"Yeah," Sam confirms. "Packed and ready, as usual."

His aunt smiles faintly, looking a tad sad as she does so. "Stay safe, text me, okay?" She pulls Sam's head forward and kisses the crown. Sam leans into her.

"I will," he promises.

…

As soon as they enter the house, Cas and Dean vanish, and so Gabriel calls, "I do not want to hear funny business through my wall!"

"Gabriel!" twin voices cry. Sam snorts in laughter.

"Come on, kiddo," Gabriel says, ushering Sam upstairs. He looks over at Michael and Raphael, who stare at him. "I'll see you tomorrow," he says, "good night."

"Good night, Gabriel," Michael says, with Raphael echoing the sentiment.

Sam and Gabriel spend some time on Gabriel's computer, playing games from an online website that are a lot easier with another person. They snicker when they hear Dean let out a little cry, "Cas! Don't bite so hard!" followed by a sharp shush from Gabriel's brother.

"Three guesses what they're doing," Gabriel stage whispers, looking at Sam.

"Gross," Sam replies. Gabriel muffles his laughter behind his hand. "That's my brother you're talking about," Sam finishes.

"Like Cas isn't my brother?" he retorts, turning back to the screen.

Eventually, when spy games and mahjong become boring, Gabriel turns his attention to the TV, pulling up Netflix. "Anything you want to watch?" he asks, patting the bed for Sam to climb up next to him.

"Have you seen _Attack on Titan_?" Sam asks, and when Gabriel shakes his head, Sam scoffs. "You have no taste. Let me introduce you to the wonders of anime and gore."

"Riveting," Gabriel deadpans. Sam just glares at him playfully, lips pursed as he directs the remote to the show.

"You'll love it," Sam assures.

They get through seven episodes. It's nearly one in the morning, and Sam is nodding off.

Gabriel doesn't say anything, just watching quietly as Sam sinks into the pillows and his breathing evens out with sleep. He picks up the remote and shuts off the television, scooting down so his head is on another pillow. He's never been so grateful for the twelve pillows he has a tendency to sleep with.

He thought it would be difficult to fall asleep with Sam right there, but he slips off before he can even mess with the sheets.

…

He wakes up warm, the sun hitting his eyes. He thanks god it's Saturday and blinks hazily.

Sam stares back at him, glossy eyed and shaking off sleep. "Hi," Sam says, voice not very loud. He stretches, and Gabriel tries hard not to look at the skin that's revealed under Sam's shirt without much success. Thankfully, the kid doesn't notice.

"Hey," Gabriel mutters back, uncertain. Sam just lies back down, facing Gabriel.

Not even their breathing is loud enough to distract him.

It's Sam who leans in first, slotting his mouth over Gabriel's like they've been doing this for years.

He sucks in a breath as best he can, eyes closing without his will. He returns the kiss, resting his hands on Sam's hips as Sam moves to hover over him.

There's no rush to it, not at all. Sam's good at this, too, using the right amount of pressure at just the right angel and Gabriel thinks that this is the most peaceful he's been in a long time.

He doesn't know how much time passes before Sam pulls away, his breath coming a little faster. "I've wanted to do that for months," he confesses in a whisper, "ever since I saw you asleep on those bleachers."

Gabriel blinks in shock.

Sam smiles nervously. "Was that okay?" he asks, one hand coming up to cup Gabriel's cheek as he settles on the older teen.

"Uh - yeah," Gabriel manages, pretty much rendered speechless. Sam breaks out into a relieved, happy smile.

"Good," he whispers, "because I want to do this for a while longer."

"Okay," Gabriel sighs, responding to Sam's kiss on an exhale.

…

"Gabriel?"

He and Sam break apart, and since Gabriel knows full well that they've been up for an hour with barely fifty words exchanged, he knows there's no hiding the effects of kissing someone for so long.

"Yeah?" he calls, trepidation rising as Michael cracks open the door.

He rears back a little in surprise at the sight of he and Sam, blinking. "Oh," he says. "I'm interrupting."

"Yes," Sam says flatly. "What?"

Gabriel glares at him, but Sam isn't moved, so he just turns back to his brother with a sigh.

"Just wanted to make sure you were up. You're usually the first one awake and it's five hours past when you're usually awake."

"I'm awake," Gabriel assures. Michael snorts.

"Clearly," he says dryly. "Take your time."

He leaves, the door clicking shut.

Gabriel groans, leaning back. He stares at the ceiling. "Gabriel?" Sam inquires.

"My shower is just there," he says, waving in the general direction of the door. "You can get your stuff and shower so your brother doesn't think I've killed you or something."

Sam huffs. "How farfetched would I be if I asked you to join me?"

"Fuck, kid," Gabriel says, shocked. "No."

"Worth a shot," Sam shrugs, much to Gabriel's astounded amusement.

…

Once they eat and perform the obligatory greetings, he and Sam head back up to his room and lock the door. Sam is on him in an instant, hands going around Gabriel's waist and holding him tight. He groans, wrapping his arms around Sam's neck, tangling his fingers in Sam's hair. It's soft and he used Gabriel's soap so they smell the same and that should not be as much of a turn on as it is.

Sam breaks the kiss to bite at his jaw, lightly nipping until he pushes Gabriel's shirt out of the way to bite hard. Gabriel can't decide if it's more painful or pleasurable; either way, he doesn't stop the treatment.

Sam gives him hickey after hickey, and Gabriel laughs slightly. "Possessive, are you?" he gasps, eyes rolling back as Sam licks at a new one.

The kid pulls back with a smirk. "I've got you now," he says, "and I want people to know. You're mine, right?"

"Yeah," Gabriel agrees breathlessly, "yours, all yours."

"Good," Sam says, and kisses him hard, shoving him backward onto the bed.

Gabriel starts, and figures he should say it before it gets too far - "I'm not having sex with you."

"No?" Sam asks, eyebrows raised.

"You're fourteen," Gabriel says. "You're younger than my brother and sister."

"So?"

"Kiddo, I'm not having sex with you."

Sam should not look like a kicked puppy at this point, no way. "Even if I beg you? I know for a fact that Dean and Cas have already gone at it. They did it last time when Cas was over at my house."

And that is entirely too much information. "I did not want to know that," Gabriel states.

"I didn't either," Sam says. "But I still had to hear it. They seriously have stamina, too. I didn't sleep the entire time Cas was there."

"Oh, fuck," Gabriel says, covering his ears. "Kiddo, I thought you wanted to talk about our nonexistent sex life, not our brothers'."

"That's the point though - I don't want it to be nonexistent. I want you. I have for a long time. Please?"

Gabriel closes his eyes, thinning his lips.

"I'll be fifteen in May," Sam offers.

"That's six months away," Gabriel says, waving that off. "And you seriously don't want to lose your virginity at fourteen."

Sam scoffs. "I lost my virginity to a girl named Ruby in eighth grade. It was practically rape now that I think about it, but I wasn't exactly against it at the time and we dated for six months after."

Gabriel stares at him, flabbergasted. Sam suddenly looks shy, curious. "Are you a virgin?" he asks.

"I'm not answering that," Gabriel says immediately.

"You are!" Sam says, eyes widening.

Gabriel feels his face heat. Sam loses his victorious expression and just smiles. "I could make it good for you?" he offers, no judgment in his gaze.

His heart is racing, face hot, and his mouth is dry. "If we're doing this, lights are off and all the curtains are closed," he says, and Sam smiles, brilliant and bright.

He leans in for a kiss. "You won't regret it," he promises.

"Regret it?" Gabriel scoffs. "I'm losing my virginity to a fourteen year old who I kissed for the first time six hours ago."

Sam turns from where he was pulling the curtains across the window. "Does that bother you?"

He shrugs. "I trust you," he says, hoping it comes across nonchalant. Given the smile on Sam's face, though, he fails spectacularly.

Sam flips off the lights. "It's dark in here," he comments, and Gabriel nods, tugging the kid down on top of him so he's settled between his legs.

"That's the point," Gabriel murmurs against his lips, then cuts off Sam's reply.

Sam is more than happy with this, and it doesn't really occur to Gabriel exactly what he's agreed to until Sam breaks the kiss to take his shirt off and toss it to the floor. Sam resumes the kiss, but Gabriel's heart has started to race uncomfortably.

"Hey," Sam whispers after a few minutes, his fingers gliding over Gabriel's ribs, "it's alright."

"Hm?" Gabriel hums, chasing Sam's mouth as a distraction. He presses his hands to Sam's chest, mostly unsure of where else to put them. Sam makes a short, pleased noise as Gabriel's fingers run over his nipples, then he pulls away more.

"It's okay, you know," Sam murmurs, running his index finger down the side of Gabriel's face. "You're shaking like a leaf," he says next, face contorting in worry. "Shit, I'm sorry."

Gabriel hadn't really noticed the shivering, but now that he's aware, he makes an effort to stop. It doesn't really help. Goosebumps appear all over his skin, his mouth going dry.

"Fuck, Gabriel, come on, love, it's okay-"

"I know that," Gabriel snaps, tugging Sam back down. "Fuck, I know that. Just kiss me. Don't force it."

Sam still looks uncertain, but it doesn't take much to convince a teenager to redirect his focus to sex. Sam's hard again within moments, making aborted little movements against Gabriel's hip as he kisses. Gabriel can mostly lose himself to it, because making out is fun, it's familiar. Sam slides his hands under Gabriel's shirt until it's bunched under his arms, and Gabriel has to force back his nerves.

"Look, we really don't have to do this. I probably made you feel like you needed to, fuck. I'm so sorry. We can stop if you're this upset, Gabriel," Sam starts babbling. Gabriel growls in response.

"Jesus, kid. I have four younger siblings; if I wanted to tell you no, believe me, we would not have gotten this far. Forgive me if I've never gotten this far with anyone else before," Gabriel snaps, eyes finding Sam's in the darkness.

Sam pauses, so Gabriel takes the opportunity to take his shirt off, doing his best to make sure that Sam doesn't see the scars. It's a slim hope, because Sam's eyes widen in hurt shock, and while Gabriel's heart breaks, Sam leans down for another kiss. "Thank you," Sam breathes, "thank you for trusting me."

Gabriel nods, wrapping his arms around Sam's waist, holding him tighter. He knows that Sam can feel the scar tissue against his back, but he doesn't seem bothered, so Gabriel allows himself to relax.

Sam breathes a sigh of relief, clearly feeling Gabriel let go of most of his nerves.

They move quickly from there, taking their pants and boxers of in unison. When Sam lowers himself back onto Gabriel, he bites his lip to keep his moan in, not wanting to attract attention. It's hot, and the friction is something else, like nothing he's ever felt.

After a few moments of just grinding against each other, Sam gets impatient. "You have lube?" he asks.

Gabriel nods, reaching for his bedside table. "No condoms though," he manages, "didn't think I'd need them, so this-"

"I'm clean," Sam interrupts. "Got tested a month ago. And you - well."

"You're pushy as fuck," Gabriel says, handing him the bottle.

"And yet, here we are," Sam quips, grinning at him impishly.

"Oh, fuck you," Gabriel says, and Sam shakes his head, grin still in place as he rubs his fingers together, slick with the lube. He drops the bottle.

"No, actually," Sam says. "My ex tried. Hated it. You okay with me fucking you?"

Gabriel snorts, entirely unattractively, and Sam starts snickering. They both wind up gasping in laughter, and Gabriel can't help but be relieved. This isn't going to be a mistake, if this is how it keeps going.

"Yeah," Gabriel gasps out after a second. "I'm quite intimate with things going up there."

"Really?" Sam asks, eyes wide, and Gabriel smirks.

"Plus side of being rich without parents? I order whatever the fuck I want off Amazon, kiddo."

Sam swears, gripping the base of his cock to stop from coming. Gabriel bites his lip and winks at him.

"Fuck, Gabriel," Sam mutters, scrambling for the lube again. "You'll have to show me at some point. Maybe we can play."

As Sam gets more of the lube smeared onto his fingers, Gabriel nods. "Yeah, okay," he agrees.

It's odd, having something touch his entrance without being in control of it. Sam takes several seconds to even get the tip of his finger inside, watching Gabriel's face avidly. Gabriel rolls his eyes and rocks down onto Sam's finger, making him bite off a swear.

"Sammy. I just told you I've got toys that go up there all the time. My ass is not exactly a stranger to this. Get on with it."

Sam nods, slipping the rest of his finger inside. It's several moments before he adds more lube and slides the second one in. Gabriel hisses, spreading his legs farther, ignoring the burn from both Sam's fingers and the way his scabs protest the movement.

"You okay?" Sam asks, sliding his free hand up Gabriel's thigh. He nods.

It takes longer for Sam to add a third finger. As soon as he does, he moves them in a new direction, nailing his prostate dead on. Gabriel groans, throwing his head back. "Oh, there it is," Sam says, something wicked in his eyes and voice. He promptly avoids it.

"Sam," Gabriel moans, hands tangling in his hair. "Come on, let's do this, already."

Sam nods, withdrawing his fingers. It feels odd, as it always does, but Gabriel doesn't get to think on it for very long. Sam grabs yet more lube, slicking up his cock before lining up. He glances up and Gabriel kind of wants to kill him for all this buildup. He nods.

It's painful. In the dark, he hadn't exactly seen Sam, but he can tell now that the kid certainly isn't lacking. He sucks in a sharp breath, tightening his fingers in Sam's hair. He freezes. "No, no, no," Gabriel pants, "you'd better keep going."

Sam nods and does as he's told. He leans forward and kisses Gabriel as he bottoms out, trying to distract him from the pain.

Gabriel is hazy as he kisses back, taking in deep breaths when he can and forcing himself to relax. "Fuck," he hisses, shifting. Sam sucks in a sharp breath, burying his face in Gabriel's shoulder. "Move, Sam."

"Yeah, yeah," Sam mutters, pulling out. Gabriel clenches his eyes shut, but when Sam starts actually rocking in and out, the pain begins to dissolve. He lets out a sigh, finally beginning to understand what the fuss is about. Once Sam gets going - and he doesn't move very fast, keeping the thrusts slow and easy - Gabriel moves to meet him, one hand dropping from Sam's hair. Sam takes it and twines their fingers together, bringing their hands up to kiss the back of Gabriel's hand.

He can feel the heat on his cheeks and is doubly grateful for the darkness. "You sap," he says, voice breaking, and Sam grins, pressing another kiss to Gabriel's hand. He dislodges their fingers and begins to press kisses to Gabriel's palm, fingers, and wrist. "Sam," Gabriel begs.

Sam just laughs lightly, keeping hold of Gabriel's hand as he picks up the pace. It's still slow since they need to keep quiet, but when Sam suddenly moves and nails his prostate again, Gabriel gasps, seeing stars. He tugs sharply on Sam's hair, and Sam hisses. "Keep that up," he mutters, so Gabriel does, tightening his hold, pulling roughly.

Gabriel wraps his legs around Sam's waist, pulling him closer. He sits up slightly to catch Sam's lips in a kiss. Sam finally lets go of his hand to tangle his fingers in Gabriel's hair in turn. He pulls away to nip at the hickeys he left earlier, refreshing them.

Sam hits his prostate again. And Gabriel's gone. He tilts his head back, a rough sound coming from his throat. Come streaks his chest and Sam's, and it isn't a moment later that Sam comes, too. It's hot, and the feel of it has Gabriel threatening to come again. He swears quietly.

They're both panting, and Sam swallows harshly. They both wince when he pulls out to drop next to Gabriel. Sam takes him by the chin to tilt his head for another kiss.

Gabriel isn't usually this tired after coming, but to be fair, he doesn't usually have another person stealing his breath. "You good?" Sam asks, voice rough.

He nods immediately, "fuck, yes," he says.

Sam laughs, smiling against his mouth. "No regrets?"

"No," Gabriel confirms, shifting. He grits his teeth, a whole new kind of discomfort and pain flaring.

If Sam notices, he doesn't say anything.

Instead, he just leans his head on Gabriel's shoulder and grabs the sheet, tugging it up. "That was fun," he murmurs, "we should do it again. Soon."

"Yeah?" Gabriel checks. Sam nods. "Sure."

He gets a kiss to his shoulder and then Sam drifts off.

But sleep for Gabriel doesn't come so easily.

He stares at the ceiling fan turning in slow circles. Now that it's silent, he can very faintly detect the sounds of his family on the first floor, and thanks god that he's on the third so any noise made probably wasn't heard.

It never fails to amaze him how quickly he can go from a great high to a whole new low in a matter of seconds. He feels no urge to cry, but there's a weight on his chest that hasn't been there for days. His limbs feel heavy and even though he's exhausted, he knows better than to think he'll be able to sleep.

He finds Sam's hand under the sheets and grips it tight. His bed mate mumbles under his breath, words indistinguishable, but Gabriel feels some measure of relief when Sam curls closer.

Everything he's ever read says that sex is supposed to release all kinds of endorphins for happiness. Nowhere has he read of this kind of reaction. It's just another way he's broken, he supposes.

His phone chimes, so he feels for it blindly, fingers closing around it after a minute. He brings it up to his face and blinks against the light, narrowing his eyes.

_Are you and Sam okay?_

Castiel.

_Yeah._ Gabriel drops the phone on his chest and resumes staring at the ceiling. He seriously contemplates ignoring the next message, but he swears Cas is psychic because it goes off twice more in quick succession.

_I walked passed your room earlier._

_I'll kill him if he hurts you, regardless of Dean._

_Did you want dinner? We've got some time, but I figured I'd give you warning so you can get ready._

Gabriel rolls his eyes. _If you so much as touch my stove I WILL kill you, brother. And as far as Sam goes - please stop prying._

_I worry._

_Yeah, well, I'm fine._

_Sure you are._

_You're killing my afterglow._

_Gross. I'll see you later._

Gabriel sighs and flings his phone across the bed.

"You okay?"

He looks down, meeting Sam's sleepy eyes. "'Course," he says, smiling. "Just had sex with a super hot boy. Why wouldn't I be?"

Sam smiles sadly, reaching up to run his finger under Gabriel's eyes. "Because you're crying."

He winces, pulling away immediately. Sam's eyes widen. "No, wait, don't go," he says, reaching out.

Gabriel laughs bitterly. "God, how can you even stand me?"

Sam looks shocked, properly awake now. "I don't have sex with everyone, you know. You're smart, funny, gorgeous - why wouldn't I like you?"

He grabs the scar on his left arm without thinking, gritting his teeth. Sam's eyes follow the movement, and he grabs Gabriel's wrist in gentle hands, turning his arm so he can see. He brings Gabriel's arm up and kisses his wrist, the tip of the scar, and the center of it. He tugs on the arm, so Gabriel follows, straddling Sam's lap. Sam hums, wrapping one arm around his waist.

"I understand, now," Sam says lowly, bringing his hand to his chest. "How old are these, if you don't mind me asking?"

Gabriel blinks down at the scar dispassionately. "Few years. It was an accident. Blade slipped."

"On both arms?" Sam questions, and Gabriel feels the tears now.

He lets out a laugh that sounds like a sob. "You're the first one to ask that," he says.

Sam pulls him close and kisses him, first on the mouth, then his cheeks to get the tears. "I'm glad you're here," he says.

"Thank Cas. He's the one who got sick and came home."

"I owe him."

Gabriel shakes his head. He doesn't have an answer to that.

"We did this backward," Sam says suddenly, after several minutes of slow kissing.

"What?" Gabriel asks, befuddled.

"Is it too late to ask you on a date?"

Gabriel snorts, pressing his face into Sam's chest as he shakes with laughter. "Gee, Sam," Gabriel says, his smile unstoppable now, "I don't know."

"I'll pay for it," he says. "We can go to the movies since you've never been. There's a new Marvel movie out." He combs his fingers through Gabriel's hair as he says it, leaning his cheek on his head. Gabriel kisses his collarbone then lifts his head, biting gently at Sam's lower lip.

"Shit, Sam. I'm not a girl."

"I wanna, okay? You deserve it. You're amazing and wonderful and I really, really want to give you all I can," Sam says, earnest. He beams at Gabriel, leaning in for another kiss. "You absolutely deserve to be spoiled. I get the feeling you don't get that often."

"No," Gabriel agrees. "But I don't need to be spoiled, Sammy."

Sam scoffs and rolls his eyes. "No one needs to be spoiled, dude. Is it so bad that I wanna spoil you anyway?"

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"No way in hell."

He shakes his head. Kissing Sam's forehead, he says, "fine, since you're so damn adamant."

Sam smiles in victory. "You're learning," he says in approval. "No point in fighting me, love. I win."

"That's… really egotistical," Gabriel observes. Sam shrugs.

"I don't care."

"Kiddo, at the rate we're going, my eyes are going to roll out of my head," he says after rolling his eyes.

"Not my fault."

"Is to."

"Nope."

"Yeah."

"No."

"Yes."

"Nope!"

"Yes, it is, now, fuck - we've got to shower."

"Will you join me this time?"

Gabriel stares at him. Sam stares right back. "I'll fuck you again," he offers. "I've never had sex in the shower before."

He bursts out laughing. "Are you some sort of sex fiend?"

Sam chuckles. "For now. I've got my sexy new boyfriend sitting naked in my lap - why do you believe that I can think of anything else?"

Gabriel's breath leaves him abruptly. His eyes grow wide, causing Sam to look nervous suddenly. "What?" he asks, clearly self-conscious.

"I - you're my boyfriend?" Gabriel asks, hating how small his voice sounds but unable to help it.

Sam flushes. "I mean. Yeah. If you wanna be."

Gabriel kisses him hard and fast, wrapping his arms around Sam's neck. Sam laughs into the kiss, tightening his hold on Gabriel's waist. "Sure," he says. "I'd like that."

…

Sam and Dean go home late on Sunday.

Cas corners him that night.

"What do you want?" Gabriel asks, flipping through the options on Netflix. When Cas doesn't answer, he looks at his little brother with raised eyebrows. Cas shifts, so Gabriel drops the remote and sits up properly. "What's wrong?" he asks.

"I got a text from Mom ten minutes ago," Cas says.

"What?" Gabriel demands, scrambling out of the bed. Cas hands him the phone wordlessly.

"They want to spend Christmas here?" he reads, looking up with wide eyes. Then he frowns. "Where the fuck did they get your number and why did they ask you?"

Cas looks even more uncomfortable. "Mom was talking to Michael yesterday. I somehow wound up with the phone, I guess since Michael had to go to the restroom. She kept asking questions, and I kept answering. She asked for my number and I gave it to her."

Gabriel really feels like his eyes are going to fall out. He deals with so many idiots.

He tosses Cas the phone. It's funnier to watch him scramble to catch it than just handing him the device. And when Cas inevitably drops it, the look of disdain on his face just takes the cake. "Don't answer that. I'll call her."

"Fine," Cas agrees. Gabriel turns, but then Cas says, "I wish you luck with Sam," and he freezes. Cas continues, "he's a wonderful person, Gabriel. If he hurts you, it will probably be an accident. He's liked you a long time, and you should have seen how happy he was when he got in Dean's car."

Gabriel releases a heavy breath. "I like him, too."

"Good," Cas says, and he can hear the smile in his brother's voice.

…

"Hello?"

"Mom," Gabriel greets.

"Oh, hi, honey!" Becky says cheerfully, "I didn't expect you to call - oh, Chuck, it's Gabriel." There's some white noise and then Becky says, "You're on speaker."

"Great," Gabriel says flatly. "I-"

"How are you, Gabe?" Chuck interrupts, and Gabriel grits his teeth.

"I hate that nickname," he says. "But otherwise, I'm fine."

"Oh, okay," Chuck says, clearly caught off guard. "That. That's good, son. Did Cas tell you we want to come for Christmas?"

"Yes, that's why I'm calling," Gabriel says, leaning on his bedpost. He crosses one ankle over the other and tilts his head back. "We haven't celebrated Christmas for a long time. Not really. Just a quick exchange of gifts and that's it."

Silence.

Gabriel waits.

"…Oh," Becky says, tentative. "So that's a no?"

Gabriel shrugs. "I don't see why not," he says. "Luke will be here by then, so we can all do this."

"Oh, I'm so glad," Becky says. Gabriel can see a memory in his mind, suddenly, of her smiling face holding the lights from the tree in front of him. He can remember laughing, Cas and Anna mere infants being cradled in Chuck's arms. She'd had the same tone back then.

He misses her suddenly with an ache he thought he would never feel again, not after Raphael left.

"Gabriel?"

He clears his throat, blinking back tears. "Yeah, sorry. Sorry. What?"

"When do we want to be there? Just on Christmas, or can we stay longer?" Becky asks.

"That's not really up to me," he says, uncomfortable.

Chuck laughs without humor. "It is, son. It's your home."

"Stay as long as you want," Gabriel says, rushed. "Just be gone two days before we start school, and wait until Luke gets here. I'll text you."

Becky lets out a cheerful cry. "Oh, thank you, sweetheart," she says.

"Whatever," Gabriel replies. "I'll talk to you later."

He hangs up.

…

"Tell me," Ms. Jameson says, ten minutes before the bell rings.

"Tell you what?" Gabriel asks.

"You're happier than you've been in ages," she answers, looking like that fact has made her day. "I'm sure it's something good."

Gabriel laughs, swinging his legs over the side of her chair. She cocks her hip against the desk and looks at him with raised eyebrows, but he ignores that and says, "I've got a boyfriend."

She beams, leaning down to hug him. "Oh, that's wonderful. I've never known you to have one of those," she says.

He snickers. "Yeah, me neither. Couldn't ask for a better one, though."

"Better what?"

They glance over. Sam walks in with a sly grin, obviously knowing what's going on. Gabriel just shrugs, looking down at the bag of candy Ms. Jameson had given him. "Boy-toy," he says.

Sam snorts in amusement. "Boy-toy?" he repeats.

"Oh, yeah," Gabriel says, nodding sagely. "Says he'll spoil me rotten, so I figure I'd better take advantage."

Sam laughs slightly harder, biting his lip. "So he's just a sugar daddy, basically?"

"Totally."

"Well, fuck," Sam says. "Didn't think I'd be spending quite that much."

Ms. Jameson reminds them of her presence by coughing, eyes sparkling. "Language, Sam," she says.

"That's your only protest?" Gabriel demands, looking around him to stare at her. "I pretty much just said that he's-"

"I heard you!" she says loudly, cutting him off. "I was going to ignore that. I'm happy to talk to you both, but there are some things we just don't need to address, and your apparent relationship and the way it operates is definitely one of those things."

Sam and Gabriel burst out laughing. Sam leans over and pulls Gabriel to his feet. Ms. Jameson walks away, leaving them alone for at least a minute in the classroom. "Hey, you," Sam murmurs, pressed against Gabriel, his eyes fond.

"Hi yourself," Gabriel responds.

Sam leans down. It's different kissing him in public. They hold hands loosely, with Gabriel on his tip toes. With him shoved against the wall in his room, the leverage was different so that hadn't been necessary, but it's clear now that tip toes is the way Gabriel is going to have to go from now on.

"Oh, get a room," someone says.

They separate, and Sam smirks at the girl, who winks.

"I wish," Sam says. She grins, chuckling, and sits down at her desk.

"As much as I'd like to stick around, my counselor has threatened me with an F in my next class if I don't go, even though we've only got like a week left and I've got a B," Gabriel says, scooping up his bag and swinging it over his shoulder. He leans up and presses another kiss to Sam's mouth. "I'll see you later," he says.

"You sit in here for lunch, right?" Sam calls.

"Yup!" Gabriel says, winking, and walks off.

…

So it goes.

Gabriel is so caught up in this "honeymoon phase" that when there's one day left of school, his heart stops.

"Shit," he says into the silence, and Ms. Jameson looks up.

"What?" she asks.

"I've got to pick up my brother from the airport, and I guess my parents are coming over tonight, too," he says, panicked.

"Oh, dear," Ms. Jameson says, tone worried. "You'll be okay? Will I see you tomorrow?"

"I don't know," he says honestly. "I might be caught up in making sure Luke doesn't kill my parents."

She looks disturbed. "Would he?"

He shrugs. "I have no idea. I know he'll scream loud enough to wake the whole state though."

"He sounds fun."

Gabriel can always count on her dry sense of humor. "Oh, he's a real joy," he agrees.

"Well, in case I don't see you tomorrow," she says, walking to her closet. "You've got to keep quiet about this, now, because I'm not allowed to do this, technically."

"What?"

She pulls a bag out of the closet and hands it to him. "Merry Christmas, Gabriel."

He blinks at it in shock. He looks up at her, eyes wide. "Go on," she says with a smile.

He glances back down and pulls out the paper, then grabs the box that he finds. He opens it and swallows heavily. He pulls at the chain, lifting the medallion out.

It's the classic symbol for theatre: the happy mask with the crying one in black and white. It's got rhinestones along the edges, and he peers at it, losing his breath when he sees: _For Gabriel - I wish you all the luck in the world. Ms. Marie Jameson_. It's engraved on the back.

He chokes on a sob and places it back in the box, setting it down. He throws his arms around her, crying into her shoulder. She hugs him back, shushing him quietly and rocking slowly. "Thank you, thank you," Gabriel repeats, over and over.

"You're welcome," she murmurs. "You're welcome."

He pulls back, picking up the box again, wiping his eyes. He unclasps the chain and puts it around his neck, closing it and letting it fall. "Thank you," he says again.

She waves his thanks away, but he can tell she's pleased. "Of course, Gabriel."

He jumps a little. "Oh, I thought I'd see you tomorrow, but I guess I probably won't, huh," he says. He turns and opens his backpack. "It's not nearly what you just gave me, but-"

She smiles at the small card he hands her. He rubs the back of his neck as she opens it. She reads the card with her smile still firmly in place. Her expression softens the more she reads, and she tugs him into a one-armed hug as she folds it up. She pulls out the gift card. "You told me once that you never get to go to the spa but that you really like to, so-"

"Thank you, Gabriel," she interrupts. "I appreciate it." Then she looks at the amount written on the back and she gasps. "Gabriel!" she scolds.

"It's not really all that much, Ms. Jameson," he says. "I'm really wealthy."

"A three hundred dollar gift card wealthy?" she asks. He nods, shrugging. "I thought you had siblings to take care of?" she says next.

"Meh," he says. "They never know how much money we get every month, anyway. But we get more than enough to pay the bills and we always get extra around Christmas. I give them five hundred each on the second of December. Always have."

"What do your parents do for a living?"

"My dad is a best-selling author under fifteen different pseudonyms. He also inherited his father's real estate empire when he was twenty three. He married my mother seven months later, and she was pretty well off in her own right, running websites. So, they don't work."

She huffs. "That's outrageous."

"You're telling me," he agrees. "My house has eight bedrooms and four full baths. I pay an eighteen hundred dollar mortgage on it every month and it barely makes a dent in our funds. I put most of it away for college funds."

"You're a good kid, Gabriel," Ms. Jameson says.

"I don't want crippling student debt in my family," he says, but he's blushing slightly and he knows it.

"I don't blame you," she says. She looks over his shoulder and Gabriel turns. Sam glares at her. She just smiles.

"Hi," Gabriel says, taking a hold of Sam's hand. He looks at Ms. Jameson. "Have a good holiday," he says. "I'll see you in January."

"You too, Gabriel," she calls. "Have a good break, Sam!"

"Thanks, you too!" he yells over his shoulder, tugging Gabriel out of the classroom. He basically drags him to a secluded hallway and says, "school ended like a half hour ago. What were you doing?"

He shrugs. "I never keep track of time in theatre," he says.

Sam just rolls his eyes with a huff and leans down for a kiss.

"Text me, okay? I want to know you'll be alright," Sam says between kisses. Gabriel nods, pressing closer and digging his hands into Sam's hair.

Gabriel takes a deep breath as he pulls away, already feeling the separation keenly. "I have to go," he murmurs. "My asshole brother isn't going to be happy if I'm late."

"Be safe," Sam whispers, and with one more kiss, Gabriel walks to his car.

…

Luckily for Gabriel, the plane is delayed.

Unluckily for Gabriel, the plane is delayed.

Even though he gets there ten minutes late, Luke isn't off the plane.

But if Gabriel knows his brother at all, that just means he's going to be spending the next two hours in rush-hour traffic with a pissy brother who has a fondness for his middle finger.

He shoves headphones in his ears and sits in one of the enormous waiting chairs next to the escalator. He opens a text to Sam: _Plane delayed. This is going to be so much fun._

_Oh, no_ , Sam answers immediately, _good luck_.

_Thanks, babe. Not sure how much it'll help, though._

_Worth a shot. … You should call me babe more often. :D_

Gabriel smiles, overcome. He feels like he could stay in this moment forever. He screenshots the text and says, _Sure, babe._

Sam sends him a heart and Gabriel refuses to say that he giggles at the sight of it, but that's pretty much what happens.

He looks up, but he doesn't see his brother so he sends another text to Sam complaining about how cold this airport is.

He and Sam go back a forth for a while, and he doesn't look up again, too busy rapid-fire texting his boyfriend. So when someone taps his shoulder, he lets out a little shriek, yanking his headphones out as his head shoots up.

Luke stares at him with raised eyebrows. The amused tick of his mouth makes Gabriel want to deck him.

But he does the mature thing and only cusses him out to Sam, who sends a sympathetic response and says he'll text later.

"Hello, brother," Luke says when Gabriel stands, wincing at the pins and needles in his legs.

"Luke," he says, rubbing his thigh in irritation. He nods to the woman next to him. "Who's that?"

Luke perks up noticeably, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Gabriel, this is my fiancée, Kelly Kline. Kelly, this is my younger brother Gabriel."

She smiles at him, reaching out to shake his hand. "A pleasure," she says. "I've been wanting to meet some of Luke's family."

"Mistake," he states frankly, then winces. "Whoops. Sorry. I don't censor myself. We're great, really."

She laughs, and even Luke has a smile on his face. "That's quite alright. I'm engaged to Luke. I think I can handle it," she assures. "Shall we?"

Luke drops his arm from her waist but takes her hand instead, his other one grabbing his suitcase. They start walking to the car, and it's awkwardly silent.

"Fuck," Gabriel breathes, looking at the parking garage. He frowns. "They say to take pictures of the place where you parked, but I have no brain so didn't do that…"

Luke snorts. "Nicely done, brother."

"Shut up," he says absently, walking through the lot, peering over cars.

"What car do you drive?" Kelly asks, which is more help than Luke was going to offer. Gabriel decides he likes her.

"Blue 2014 Ford Focus," he answers. "It's got a scratch on the side. I haven't gotten around to fixing it yet. It's not like I use it very often, anyway."

"And do you know approximately where you were?" she asks next, looking helpfully worried.

"No," he grounds out. "I have no clue."

"You were parked in lot B, level one, left side," someone says.

Gabriel jumps, but it's only a security guard. The man nods in the correct direction. "You were so frazzled that I figured I'd memorize it for you in case I saw you again."

"Oh, thank you, thank you," Gabriel says, "really. We would've been here all night."

"It's already late enough, kid, and you look like you're going to fall over," the officer remarks. "No need to make it worse."

"You're a godsend."

The man laughs. "Just have a good night, sir," he says, wandering off.

"Considering the fact that it's apparently not just me that thinks you look like shit, why don't I drive home?" Luke offers, and Gabriel should count himself lucky that at least the insult wasn't too bad.

"Fine," he agrees, pulling the keys out of his pocket and tossing them over. Luke looks stunned, catching them.

"Really?" he asks.

Gabriel nods. "Like everyone has just announced, I'm exhausted and I don't want to drive for two hours back home. Just know that you will pay any damages to my car."

"Gotcha."

…

_Luke's driving. I can text you, babe._

_I can't wait to hear you actually call me that, love_ , Sam answers. _How's it going?_

_Decently. His fiancée was on the plane with him, so I guess she kept him in a decent mood, or at the very least, convinced him not to take his frustrations out on me._

"So, Gabriel," Kelly starts, and he looks up. He turns around in the passenger seat, absently adjusting the seatbelt so it isn't grazing his neck. "You're a senior, right?"

_Oh, I'm glad. Maybe this won't be as bad as you thought._

_His fiancée has started the inquisition._

_Spoke too soon._

_You jinxed it. I thought we were together. You're supposed to look out for me._

_Sorry, love. I'll do better next time._

_You'd better._

"Dude," Luke snaps. "Stop texting your boyfriend and answer her."

"But I like my boyfriend," Gabriel protests. "But, uh, yeah. I'm a senior."

Kelly laughs, a light sound that has Luke grinning immediately, looking at her through the rearview mirror. "I was kidding," Luke says, looking at Gabriel. "You actually have a boyfriend?"

"Yup," he says, leaning his head on the seat. "His name is Sam."

"I didn't know you were gay."

"I'm pan. Cas is gay."

Luke looks absolutely stunned.

Gabriel shakes his head and glances at Kelly. "Downside is my boyfriend is younger than me. Upside is that he's Cas' boyfriend's younger brother, so I'll still see him all the time without having to exclusively make the time."

"Cas' boyfriend's younger brother," Luke repeats. "What a mouthful."

"I met him in theatre," Gabriel offers.

"Better," Luke says, sighing.

"You're an actor?" Kelly asks.

"Yeah. Theatre eight come January. Ms. Jameson is like the mother I never had."

Luke mutters under his breath, scowling. Kelly ignores him expertly, which just earns her more points in Gabriel's book. "That's impressive. Is that what you want to do when you graduate?"

Gabriel looks down, picking his nails. "I'm going to community college. Acting means I have to travel somewhere where there are scouts. I can't leave. My youngest sibling is only eight." He shrugs. "Don't want to leave, anyway. I've got Sam, now, and he'll be in high school still so…"

"How old is Sam?" Kelly questions, tilting her head slightly.

"He's a freshman."

"Oh, shit, really?" Luke demands, shooting Gabriel a look. "So he's, like, at least three years younger than you."

"Four years, yeah," Gabriel confirms. "I don't think that matters though."

"It'll be a crime to be dating him when you graduate."

Gabriel scowls, heart beating uncomfortably. "Who's going to tell? I'm well liked and no one is going to think I'd possibly…" The thought of doing something like that to Sam makes him want to cry.

"Shut up, Luke," Kelly snaps. "There's no need for that. Let your brother be happy."

"I'm just saying…" he defends, and Kelly argues back, but Gabriel has curled in on himself, shaking minutely. He swallows, looking at his phone.

_Not even a half hour and he makes me feel like dying._

He hits send and looks to the road, watching the streetlights reflect on the windshield.

_Oh, love._

_Tell me?_

It's two separate texts, like Sam had to get the words out as soon as he could. Gabriel, however, hesitates.

_It doesn't bother you that I'm eighteen, does it?_

He thinks even the phone looks shocked by the question. It should be funny, but there isn't anything humorous about this. Not a fucking thing.

_No, of course not. What, did he say something about statutory rape?_

_Something like that._

_I see why you hate him. That's cruel. Everything we've done, not only have I initiated, but I've consented to, okay? Fourteen is age of consent. It's okay. No one is going to say anything, anyway. For god's sake, you're my high school sweetheart._

Gabriel smiles, feeble. The suffocating darkness over his throat and chest doesn't dissipate, though.

_High school sweetheart, hm?_

_Yes. I like you a lot, love._

_Enough that you'll still be with me when you graduate? Because that's what a high school sweetheart is, you know._

_Yup._

At a loss for words, Gabriel sends a series of smiling cat emojis and hearts and locks the phone.

Luke and Kelly are quiet, with Luke scowling at the road and Kelly staring out the window.

Gabriel closes his eyes and allows himself to be lulled by the steady flashes of light and movement of the car across the highway.

…

He wakes up to his alarm in his bed.

He groans, trying to find his phone amongst the sheets.

When he finally locates it, he silences the alarm and blinks in the bright light.

_Do you want to go out on Saturday? Get away from your family early?_

_Or you can come over. I've got popcorn and movies._

_And board games._

_Gabriel?_

_Everything okay?_

_Gabriel?_

_Are you alright?_

_Are you asleep?_

_Okay. It's late, so… I'm gonna assume you fell asleep._

_Text me when you get these?_

_XOXO_

Each text with the exception of the last two are sent with at least fifteen minutes between them. Gabriel doesn't bother fighting the smile that blooms. Sam is better to him than any of his exes ever were. He opens a reply and sends: _So sorry, babe. I did fall asleep. You know how I get. Just woke up. I guess someone carried me up to my room, which is disturbing, but at least I have the house to myself for at least a little while. I won't be in school today, and I'm the only morning person in the family, so that works in my favor. Can I come over Saturday? XOXO_

He throws the phone down next to him and rubs his eyes, rolling onto his back. He wishes Sam were here.

Sam, who calls him his high school sweetheart. Sam, who sends X's and O's even thought that's incredibly outdated and cheesy. Sam, who says over and over that he just wants to make him happy.

He sighs, contemplating the pros and cons of falling back to sleep. His phone pings before he can decide. _Oh, good. I'm glad you're okay, love. I'll see you Saturday. <3_

…

His parents turn up that afternoon.

He has to take a deep breath to stop himself from killing them as they make their way through the house, talking to his siblings like they actually know them.

Luke and Raphael take his side and plainly do not play that game, so there's that. The rest of them make an effort, making him want to bang his head against the wall.

He occupies himself in the kitchen, cleaning and cooking and then cleaning some more, so he has the excuse that he's too busy to talk. He doesn't know what he'll do tomorrow after he comes home from his date with Sam, but maybe he can get away with sleeping over. What a blessing that would be.

He's got an SOS pad and a knife in hand, head in the oven, scraping off the grease that he hasn't cleaned in years.

"I didn't realize you were so stressed," Anna says softly, surprising him.

He sits up too fast and rams his head on the roof of the stove, swearing. "Do what?" he asks, carefully extracting himself from the oven. He looks up at her, and she makes a face.

"You're filthy, Gabriel," she says. He shrugs.

"So? I'm not done so there's no point in getting cleaned up."

She sighs. "Never mind." She sits down next to him, leaning on the cabinets. She leans her head on his shoulder, staring at the other end of the kitchen. "This is exhausting."

"Why do you think I'm in here?" he asks, setting the knife and cleaning pad down. He'd wrap an arm around her but this is Anna, and he knows she wouldn't appreciate that.

"True," she acknowledges. "What convinced you to let this happen?"

He shakes his head, looking down. "I didn't. Our brothers came without asking, and at that point there wasn't any point in keeping them away, too. We'd never hear the end of it, from any of them, since they'd have come down here for nothing and our parents would be grieving or some shit."

"They should grieve," she says. "They have no right to be here."

"No, they don't."

A short silence eclipses their conversation, then, "I wish I could help you. You do so much for us without anything in return."

He lets out a short laugh. "Thanks for the sentiment, but I don't need help."

"You need a therapist," she says flatly.

He winces. "I do not."

She lifts her head, meeting his eyes. The look on her face prevents him from looking away. "The only good thing about our parents being here is that you can finally get the help you need. Don't turn this opportunity away, Gabriel, it wouldn't be very smart."

"No one said I was all that bright, Anna," he says. Her lips thin and her eyes light up with a fire that is usually reserved for Cas. He knows he's in for it now.

"Is it so horrible that I want you to be happy?"

Ah, the guilt trip. He would've preferred the yelling.

"I am happy."

"No. You're a liar."

"Oh, nice, thanks."

"You're welcome."

"I'm not lying, though. I'm about to graduate, I've got you guys, Sam-"

"And you never leave the house, your best friend is your teacher, and I can't even count the number of sick days you take in a semester. I'm amazed that you don't lose credit, really."

He winces, hurt welling up hot and fast. She seems to realize her mistake, but he just gets up and goes back to cleaning the oven.

Everything is against him today.

…

The only good thing about letting Chuck buy Christmas décor is the look on Hannah's face.

Michael and Raphael look numb to the proceedings, and Luke is sitting with Kelly, his face pressed to her shoulder. Gabriel sits in a chair in the corner and listens to his parents entertain Alfie and Hannah, who, like he thought, were the only ones ready to go along with things. Cas and Anna decorate as they're told, but there isn't much enthusiasm.

It's clear that Becky and Chuck feel the strain.

She glances at Gabriel at regular intervals, eyes sad, but he blinks at her, passive. Her eyes will wander to her three eldest sons afterward, but Luke hasn't looked at her once and Raphael grabbed a book off the shelf. It's clear he isn't reading it, spending too little time on each page, but the message is clear. Michael has his eyes closed and the foot rest up, leaning back with his face toward the ceiling.

"Why don't you come and help, boys?" Chuck eventually demands, coming to a stop between them, eyes stern.

"Why should we? You've got a lot of help," Luke asks, looking up from Kelly only to glare at Chuck, incredulous. He nods to the youngest four, who have stopped to stare. Becky sets down the ornaments she dug up from the basement, which is a place Gabriel has never dared tread, something he's not sure if he regrets or not after seeing what's down there. She breathes out on a shaky exhale, nerves plain.

"It's a family thing-" Chuck starts, then he jumps when Raphael slams the book shut.

"We're related. That doesn't mean we're family. I don't even know how old Hannah is! Until I got here, I had no clue what this house looked like and I'd forgotten all your faces. This is a flimsy excuse to make up for your absence."

The silence is suffocating.

"I'm sorry," Becky says.

Raphael just shakes his head, face grim. "And that's all you've got?"

"What do you want us to say?" she asks. "I know what happened and I'm sorry. Things were too dangerous for us to stay. It was all we could do to pack our bags and get far away from you. All I've ever thought about is you kids. I love you so much but it was too much of a risk, and I see now how things can escalate. I see now how you can never outrun your past. But we're here now, and we just want a chance."

"What past?" Alfie ventures, looking up at her with wide eyes.

She shakes her head. "I can't," she whispers. "God help me, I can't."

"Can't what?" Michael asks. "You say it's over, and you can't even tell us what is was?"

"My father made his fortune through deals that he should never have made," Chuck snaps. "He dealt with people who wanted their money back. How could we tell them that we needed it? So we offered an alternative - we essentially were slaves in Europe. They would've killed you if they knew about you."

His voice is very small by the end of it. "They wanted repayment. We left you behind even though we could've paid it back faster with the amount of work you could've managed because we knew what they would do to you."

Everyone is staring at him. Gabriel doesn't know what to think.

"I think we ought to let things rest," Cas murmurs. "It's too much to just force things into a sense of normalcy - we have to relearn each other before we can do anything like this." He holds up the tassels he's been fiddling with, looking at everyone in turn.

Becky sinks into a chair behind her, leaning her head on her hand. "Yes, Castiel, you're right," she says, "You're right. I just wanted-"

"I know," Anna interrupts. "We know, mom."

And there it is.

Becky looks up, tears filling her eyes. She looks stunned, hopeful, heartbroken. "You-"

"That's who you are," Anna says. "Whether we like it or not, you're our mom. And you're trying, and I see no reason not to acknowledge that."

She starts to cry, short, aborted sobs making her way out of her throat. She stands, but hesitates, eyes still on Anna, who, after a second, steps closer.

Becky takes that for the offer it is and pulls her close, pressing kisses to her hair and holding tight.

Everyone seems to breathe a little easier, the tension beginning to lessen, just a bit.

Gabriel looks at the scene and he realizes - he knows her. He knows that woman, he knows her touch and the flash of her smile. It will take a long time. It might never be fully mended. But she hasn't done anything but love them for years. The proof is in the money that's she's provided, the effort she's making, the understanding she has of their feelings.

Hannah steps forward next, heading to Chuck, who breaks into a smile as soon as he sees her. He kneels.

Cas and Alfie make their way into the fold eventually, but Michael, Raphael, Luke, and Gabriel have the largest grudge, the most pain, and they stay seated, looking on.

…

Gabriel relays the whole thing to Sam as soon as they're in his room.

Sam holds him tighter, not saying anything, just letting Gabriel get it out.

"I just - I'm so confused, Sam. I never thought I'd see them again, and if I did, I thought it would be so easy to hate them, but it isn't. Fuck, they haven't changed at all from the people I remember, and it makes it so hard because I loved them. I loved them so much."

"I feel the same way about my dad," Sam says. "So I get it, I really do. In his rare moments of sobriety, he's not so bad, really. Dean gets hurt more, seeing him like that. It's not easy for him to hate our dad, either. He's never hated him."

"But you do," Gabriel says, looking up at Sam, eyes wide.

"Yeah," Sam agrees. "I do. I just… I have no memory of him, and he isn't genuine in his nonexistent attempts to get us to be a family again."

"I'm sorry," Gabriel says. "You can just come over if he comes back," he offers.

Sam smiles down at him, running his fingers through Gabriel's hair. "I'm sure it wouldn't be a good idea to have us over on Christmas, which is when he'll be here next."

"Sure it is," Gabriel refutes. "You can stay in my room. I've still got those toys, babe. You can play while I suffer downstairs."

Sam snickers, shoulders shaking. "No, angel. I'll just stay in here and think of you."

"Hm," Gabriel hums, sitting up and pulling Sam down.

While the position isn't very comfortable, Gabriel doesn't really mind so much since kissing Sam is his favorite past time these days. Sam parts his lips, running his tongue over Gabriel's, tilting his head for a better angle. Gabriel smiles into the kiss, shifting so he can sit up better, climbing into Sam's lap.

"Oh, wait, wait," Sam says suddenly.

Gabriel pulls back, waiting. He kind of wants to get back to the kissing, but he's willing to listen.

"Want me to blow you?"

And that was the last thing he expected.

"Do what?" Gabriel demands, shocked.

"I've been dying to," Sam says, guiding him down. "Think of it as a prequel to your Christmas gift."

"Fuck," Gabriel says, causing Sam to look up from where he's got his hands on Gabriel's jeans, popping the button open. The kid is practically a demon in the bedroom, Gabriel figures, just as Sam pulls the zipper down and then uses his fucking teeth to pull Gabriel's boxers down. "Fuck," he says again, since that seems to be the only appropriate response.

Sam is trying too hard to be smooth, though, and his hair actually gets caught in the zipper on Gabriel's jeans. "Oh, shit," he mutters, and Gabriel presses his fingers to his eyes as he throws his head back and laughs. "Shut up," Sam says, pink staining his cheeks. "I'm new at this."

"Yeah, babe, it's okay," Gabriel says, smiling. "Just don't bite my dick and we'll be good."

Sam shakes his head, finally getting his hair free. "No promises, angel," he says, and covers Gabriel's cock with his mouth.

Gabriel groans, pulling on Sam's hair, trying not to overwhelm him. Sam very obviously doesn't know what he's doing for once, too much teeth and sometimes the friction is awkward but it's hot as hell anyway. Sam hollows his cheeks and uses his tongue on the head and since Gabriel hasn't actually had his dick in anything, that's all it takes. "Sam-" he warns.

Sam pulls away, spit and pre-come on his lips as Gabriel lets go, arching with a moan.

"That didn't last long," Gabriel jokes, and Sam laughs, wiping his mouth.

"We're teenagers, don't know what you expected," Sam says. "That was horrible though, wasn't it?"

"I just came all over my jeans and your face and you think I didn't enjoy that? You'll get better with experience, babe," Gabriel says, looking up, amused.

"Guess we'll have to practice then," Sam replies, his sly smirk back in place.

Gabriel drops his head back onto Sam's pillow with a groan. "You're gonna kill me."

"Can't think of a better way to go, though. Besides, we've only had sex twice. You can keep going."

Sam's voice is unimpressed and there's not a hint of sympathy. Gabriel snorts. "Give me ten minutes."

"Yeah, whatever," Sam says, leaning up for a kiss.

Gabriel kisses him for a grand total of two seconds before he remembers where Sam's mouth just was. He pulls back, "go brush your teeth."

"Ugh, what?" Sam demands. "Why?"

"You just had your mouth on my dick. Excuse me for not wanting to taste it."

Sam laughs, leaning down for more kisses anyway. "Shit, dude, stop!" Gabriel shrieks, trying to wiggle away to no avail. Sam only pulls away when Gabriel nearly falls off the bed.

"There's a towel on the floor in the corner. I'll go brush my teeth," Sam says.

"Be sure to be thorough!" Gabriel yells.

"One day, you're not gonna care!" Sam yells back.

…

Christmas comes around way too fast.

When Gabriel wakes up that morning, he's not even aware for two minutes before the depression nearly suffocates him where he lies.

Tears burn at the back of his eyes, and he doesn't bother holding them back. Only two leak from the corners of his eyes, though, trailing into his hairline. He takes a deep breath.

He sits up after nearly ten minutes of trying to make himself do so. Exhaustion nearly pulls him back down. He has to sit there, feet touching the floor, head down, for another fifteen minutes.

"Come on," he mutters to himself, making fists. "Come on."

It's for Cas, for Anna, for Alfie, for Hannah.

So he gets up and showers, brushes his teeth, and then sits on the toilet seat and holds the razor.

He's found the pain to be more acute the further up his inner thigh he goes, so that's where he makes the marks. There's blood, of course, but he's numb to it now, and what used to make him cry and nearly hurl now barely makes him blink.

Fifteen.

It's more that he's made at one time in many years.

He uses butterfly stitches and then gets dressed.

Late last night he'd put bags under the mostly bare tree, so unlike normal, he doesn't go to his closet to get anything.

His phone lights up.

Frowning, he picks it up and types in his password, only to feel an overwhelming warmth at the text from Sam: _Merry Christmas, love. Can I take you out on Dec. 29?_

_Where are we going?_

_You come over. I'll give you directions from there._

_Oh, I see. Merry Christmas to you, too, babe._

…

He'd never bothered with Facebook before.

But his brothers had, which was a good thing, because that meant Gabriel actually was able to find something decent for each of them. Cas, Anna, Alfie, and Hannah were easy, of course, and he'd wound up helping the rest of his wayward family find gifts for them.

He wants this to be over as fast as possible.

Chuck is sitting in the kitchen with a cup of coffee and a book when he walks in. The man glances up and then puts the book down. "Merry Christmas, Gabriel," he says, terribly awkward.

Gabriel echoes the sentiment and gets to work on breakfast, moving through the motions of French toast without much thought. He tries to ignore his father, but the man makes it difficult, shifting and trying to say things without actually managing to get sound out.

Finally Gabriel sighs. "What?" he asks, trying not to bite on the word.

Chuck sighs in response, a much sadder noise. "How do you want to do this?" he asks.

Gabriel pauses, lowering the dough to the cutting board. He turns to face his father, leaning his hips on the counter. "Do what? Christmas?"

"Yes," comes the patient reply.

Gabriel just shakes his head. "There's movies on Netflix, there's dinner I can make."

"You should let one of us make dinner," Chuck offers. "Becky and I are quite good."

"I'm sure," he mutters. "What do you want?" he asks, suddenly exhausted. He drops his head into his hands.

Chuck hesitates. It's like he can tell there's more to that question.

"I just want my family," Chuck says. Gabriel looks up. "That's all I've ever wanted. Even when I was a kid myself - I wanted that. Not many boys do, they don't think about it until they're older. But I wanted that. And I had it, for a little while. And I know it'll be so hard to get it back. But I want to try."

"Well, I let you in here, didn't I?" Gabriel answers, gesturing around the kitchen. "I could've told you all to fuck off and die."

Chuck winces, a full body movement. "Yes," he murmurs.

"Look," Gabriel says, trying to be sympathetic, "I don't you what you want me to say. I've lived here for a long time with my younger siblings and no one else. It was hard. But I am going to say - at least you never left us without money. You gave us what we needed to survive and then some. So thank you."

Chuck stares at him, still. A small smile twitches at the corners of his mouth. "Of course," he breathes.

…

It's not an unfamiliar feeling, but it's never been so strong.

Gabriel hauls himself upstairs in the middle of dinner - an Italian concoction that his mother came up with - under the pretense of going to the bathroom.

It's not exactly a lie.

Cas looks alarmed as soon as he says it, but doesn't make any obvious moves, for which Gabriel is grateful. He knows Cas is worried, scared, and the guilt that rises in Gabriel is neigh uncontrollable, but…

He locks the bathroom door behind him and calls Sam.

"Hello, love," Sam greets.

"Sam," Gabriel breathes. "I just - I can't-"

"Gabriel?"

He hangs up the phone, tossing it into the mirror. Both shatter on impact, glass raining down onto the counter. He's breathing so hard, and he can't see beyond the tears.

This is too much, it's all too much. They're down there faking a happy family and all he wants to do is shoot them, stab them, whatever it takes, but he can't, fuck, he can't.

Cas and Anna are nearly sixteen.

And as much as he hates it, their family is more or less together, so it's okay. It's okay.

He knows this is shitty.

He knows just how god awful this is, for everyone, but he can't make himself stop.

He crawls forward, picking up his phone. It's still working, but it's cracked irreparably. He opens a text message to Sam: _I love you._

He picks up the glass.

…

He doesn't know exactly how much time has passed.

"We don't know when he'll wake. He lost a lot of blood. You got him here in time, and the transfusion was successful, but beyond that, it's up to him."

"Oh, god," he hears.

There's sobbing, the sound of something like a pen ringing off metal.

"This is all my fault," the same voice says, cracking. "Oh, god, my Gabriel…"

"It's not the first time he's done this," someone else says.

"What?"

"Couple of years ago. Razor blade all the way up his arms. Told everyone he got into an accident."

Even the tapping stops.

He turns away from the silence, trying to curl up and hide. "Gabriel?"

A hand brushes hair off his forehead, gentle fingers trailing down his cheek. Whoever it is leans in close and leans his head into their body, an arm going around his shoulders.

There's a soft humming, and for a second he's six again, wrapped up in the safety in his mother's arms, sitting in front of the fire and listening to her heartbeat. There's the quiet hum of the television and it's late, really late, and they're alone. She's humming that same song, rocking in the rocking chair, adjusting the blanket around them and kissing the top of his head.

But he knows it's not real. How can it be?

But he presses closer because he never wants the dream to end. He misses her so much. She was the embodiment of perfection - a bit wild, a bit loud, a bit volatile, but kind, loving, and always, always there. He can remember the Easter egg hunts and the fourth of July fireworks and sparklers. He remembers New Year's and Thanksgiving, and he remembers everything the way it should've been.

The way it hasn't been for years, because he can't stand holidays. He can't bear them anymore.

"Gabriel, baby, are you here? Can you hear me?"

He hums a little, taking in a big breath, feeling the tears hot on his face. "I'm so sorry," he whispers, and he's not sure if anyone can hear him.

But she clearly does, because she takes in a deep, gasping breath and leans down to kiss his forehead. "Oh, no, baby, no. I'm so sorry I failed you. That I brought you here."

"I miss you," he says. "I miss you so much."

She starts to cry again in earnest.

And he recalls something he hasn't ever remembered before - 

The night she left, she had held him and cried, and he'd been mostly asleep, so young, and he didn't understand. Then everything changed and the memory didn't matter.

…

When he wakes up next, Sam is sitting in the chair next to him, staring blankly at the tiny TV attached to the wall, and they're alone.

He reaches for Sam's hand.

His boyfriend whips around, eyes wide. "Oh my god, Gabriel," he breathes, and scrambles up onto the bed next to him. He immediately starts peppering Gabriel's face and hair with kisses, making noises that are a mix of laughing and crying.

"Sam," Gabriel returns. "Sam. Sam."

Sam ends with a kiss on his mouth, then leans back and nestles into Gabriel's side. "Fuck, I got the call the day after Christmas and I thought I'd lost you. We all thought we'd lost you."

"I'm sorry," he whispers, finger combing Sam's hair.

Sam shakes his head. "I'm sorry, love. I should've been there for you. I should've-"

"Don't you dare," Gabriel scolds. "You were there for me. I just. I slipped. I never wanted to hurt you, I never wanted this. I just wanted it to be over. I'm tired of the fighting and tired of the false family bullshit and I just couldn't take it anymore."

Sam's shaking a little, so Gabriel changes the subject. "How was your Christmas?"

Sam scoffs. "It was okay, I guess. My dad didn't show, which was good, I guess. I. I, fuck, love. I don't know. It was quiet. Dean had too much beer and Ellen stress ate her way through most of the cookies and Bobby was passed out drunk by five. I spent most of the night in my room and when you called…"

"I'm sorry."

"Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?"

"You said you loved me," Sam says, tilting his head up to look at him.

Gabriel's breath hitches. "…yes. Yes, I meant it."

And Sam lights up like the fucking sky, letting out a sharp, happy laugh. "Oh, good, because I love you too, angel, I love you so much."

Gabriel smiles through the new tears on his face and leans in for a kiss.

…

He's allowed to go home the next day.

Turns out, three days have passed since Christmas. He's guided into his room with a string of bandages all the way up to his elbows, dark, ugly stitches in his wrists, and his mother fusses so much he feels like he could suffocate.

Hannah crawls up onto his bed as soon as Becky manages to get him mostly settled. Gabriel pulls her close and kisses her head. "Hey, Hannah," he says.

"Hi," she says. "…did you want to go?"

Since everyone is in his room, the air is abruptly sucked out of it as everyone stares at her.

Gabriel feels tears slide down his face. "I don't know," he whispers, his voice gone. "I just don't know."

Becky lets out a choked noise and rushes up to pull his head to her chest, running her fingers through his hair. "I'm so sorry, baby, I'm so _sorry…_ "

Gabriel allows it, laying there limply. He doesn't know what else to do. His arms hurt and his head hurts and god, everything fucking hurts.

For a moment, he sits there with his eyes closed and wishes he had been successful.

He knows he was close.

…

Sam comes over and doesn't leave.

He curls up next to Gabriel in his bed and lies there, holding Gabriel's hand and resting his head on Gabriel's shoulder, gripping his arm so tightly, like he's afraid Gabriel will just disappear if he doesn't.

They've got Netflix running more or less on autopilot, F.R.I.E.N.D.S. playing over and over, one episode after another. Gabriel laughs at it sometimes, and every time he does he gets a smile out of Sam.

Eventually Gabriel can't stand it and leans down for a kiss.

Sam leans into it, one hand coming up to settle in Gabriel's hair. Sam pulls away after a second, not going far, but far enough that their lips don't touch. Gabriel whines a bit, trying to get closer.

"Are you sure?" Sam asks, and Gabriel can't help it; he laughs.

"Of course I'm sure," he says, incredulous. "You're my boyfriend. Why wouldn't I be sure?"

Sam hesitates, then runs a careful finger over the bandages. Gabriel pulls back, insulted. "I'm not going to break," he snaps. "I love you. I need you. Don't treat me like I'm glass."

Sam looks shocked. "I - I didn't mean - I - I'm sorry," he stutters, and leans back in for a kiss, guiding Gabriel down onto the bed.

He goes willingly, and even though the stitches pull slightly and the pain is there, he wraps his arms around Sam's waist and lets his legs fall open so the taller teen can settle between them.

It's just making out for a while, the French kisses lazy and unhurried, and Gabriel sighs into them, smiling just a bit, and he knows that he'll be fine if it goes no farther.

And it doesn't, not really. They just rock into each other, still kissing, with Sam holding his face with gentle fingers and Gabriel making nonsensical designs onto Sam's hips. Any arousal isn't pressing, isn't important, and this is what he wanted. He wanted the attention and the care.

Sam must understand that, because when they finally do break apart, he drags Gabriel into the fold of his arms and holds him.

He falls asleep easier than he has in weeks.

…

He doesn't know who told her, but Ms. Jameson hugs him for a full five minutes as soon as she sees him once the break is over.

Sam lets them have their moment.

When she steps back, she looks him over, her eyes briefly settling on how thick his sleeves are before she meets his eyes again.

"You're okay?" she asks.

Gabriel shrugs. "I will be, I guess," he says, because he can't lie to her.

She just shakes her head, choking a bit on her breath. "Don't scare us like that," she pleads, her grip on his shoulders tightening.

"Okay," he mumbles as she pulls him close again. He rests his chin on her shoulder, looking at Sam. "Okay."

…

Luke and Raphael leave the next day.

It's pretty anticlimactic, all things considered. Becky doesn't want Gabriel to head all the way to the airport, so he says his awkward goodbyes in the hallway, and he watches them leave.

He then heads up the stairs and locks his door and then he can't decide if he's okay with them being gone, because it's only going to go back to the way it was before and he doesn't know how well he could stand it. He didn't realize how quiet the house was until they filled it with noise, and he didn't know how much he actually wanted them around until they walked out that door.

He lays in bed with the sheets over his head and doesn't answer when they call.

…

The Michael leaves, and Becky and Chuck head to their new house, and Gabriel is left standing in the hall with Hannah at his hip and Alfie in front of him, Cas and Anna behind.

It's completely silent.

…

Gabriel is pretty damn bitter when he figures out that he was right.

For over a month, there is no contact from any of them, and it's just past fucking Valentine's Day before he gets a call from his mother.

"What?" he snaps, not bothering with a greeting.

"Gabriel…" she says, and he just cuts her off.

"You know, you said you wanted your family and you said you were sorry and you said a lot of things, but they were empty words. Fuck you, seriously. I can't believe I even considered letting you come back."

"Gabriel," Becky says.

"Please," he whispers. "Just. Just leave me alone. Contact everyone else, I don't care, but don't leave Cas and Anna and Alfie and Hannah without their home. But leave me alone."

He hangs up the phone.

…

He knows in an abstract sort of way that the rest of his siblings are in contact with the rest of the family, even his brothers, because more than once he walks in on them on the phone and they'll say a name.

He tries not to think about it.

He does his homework and fills out his forms for scholarships and grants and stops midway through his FAFSA application when he gets a letter from his parents with a check for a hundred thousand dollars and a short note: _Do what makes you happy, Gabriel. Go where you need to. We'll take care of things._

…

Dean and Gabriel graduate and Sam stares at them, heartbroken.

This is very clearly something that Sam and Dean have discussed over and over because Dean just gives Sam a hug and lets him cry on his shoulder and doesn't say a word.

When Sam and Gabriel get a moment, Sam says, "You're moving away."

Gabriel makes a helpless gesture. "I got a full ride to University of Southern California, Sam." He says this like Sam doesn't already know that.

Sam doesn't say anything, face streaked with tears and countenance the picture of defeat.

"Do you want long distance?" Gabriel asks, his own heartbreak setting in.

Sam looks at him, finally. "You'd do that?"

Gabriel laughs, choked. "I love you. I want that."

"Then we'll have to get Skype," Sam says, "and lots of plane tickets."

He laughs again, kissing Sam within an inch of his life, and Sam pulls him close.

…

His whole family is together for his graduation, and he knows they're there, but he doesn't pay much attention to any of them.

Ms. Jameson calls him over. She looks at him sternly. "I expect to hear from you," she says, handing him a sticky note with what must be her phone number. He nods, grinning, and she smiles back, looking close to tears. "I'm so proud of you," she says helplessly, hugging him. "So proud."

"Thanks, Ms. Jameson," he says.

"Call me Marie. I'm not your teacher anymore."

She says this like it might kill her, but Gabriel knows she's just sad that she won't see him all the time.

"Okay, Marie," he mutters, and now she starts crying. He sighs inwardly.

…

The one thing he absolutely hates about himself that night, is that he packed his bags that morning.

He gets home and goes upstairs. His family is downstairs, all his siblings and his parents, and he looks around his room.

His closet is empty, and most of his personal belongings were packed into boxes and he sent them in the mail that morning, and the only thing he's left behind are the razors under the sink.

He climbs out the window with his car keys, wallet, and one carry-on suitcase. He doesn't say goodbye.


End file.
